


Dorm Life

by lala_pipo



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Piercings, Slice of Life, Tattoos, Unsafe Sex, physical quick burn and emotional slow burn, side!2min, side!jongkey, vers!Jonghyun, vers!Taemin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 208,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lala_pipo/pseuds/lala_pipo
Summary: Taemin is a boy from the countryside who moves to Seoul for his studies. As a freshman at university, he lives in a dormitory and shares an apartment with four other students. While thinking that university life is boring and nothing like he had imagined it to be, his flat-mates show him over time that there is more to the life in a dormitory than studying in solitude and sharing a kitchen that never gets cleaned. During a party at their dormitory, he ends up sleeping with one of his flat-mates, not realizing what experimenting around with him would lead to…A journey of unrequited feelings, growth, heartbreak, and self-discovery begins in which Taemin learns what it takes to grow up and be an adult.
Relationships: Kim Jonghyun/Lee Taemin
Comments: 153
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember ever being so nervous before posting a fic, but here we are. It's probably because I've kept this hidden in a dungeon for four years. I began working on this story in October of 2016 with no intention of ever posting it. I worked on it for a year before it fell into a deep slumber from which I revived it this year. That said - this story is finished and will get updated regularly (edit: scheduled to be updated every three weeks). This baby is 170k+ heavy. (edit: that was a lie, it's way longer than that)
> 
> The idea to this story came to me while I studied abroad and shared an apartment with four other students. Imagine me sitting at my laptop in a tiny room on the other side of the world. I usually don't mention this, but this is a very sexually explicit story, so if you are not comfortable with that, then this might not be a story you want to read. Everyone else who enjoys reading smut - there you go, you're welcome. 
> 
> Special shout-out goes to [hwarang_number](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwarang_number/pseuds/hwarang_number) who was kind enough to beta-read this thing. I will be forever grateful. Thank you! If you like JongHo check out her profile ❤

**[Prologue]**

Taemin had imagined dorm life to be different. He had dreamed of parties that lasted until dawn, of late-night talks and adventurous sex, of sleeping until noon and ordering take away food non-stop. Unfortunately, reality had quite quickly crushed all his fantasies and had turned out to be less exciting than he had hoped for. He had no money for a delivery service and mostly fed on cereal, plain rice with eggs or the occasional packaged spicy noodles. Most of his classes started at half-past eight in the morning, giving him no chance of getting enough rest during the night to function properly the next day. There had been exactly one party in the four weeks he had already lived in this dorm, the party so mundane and boring that he had gone home before midnight, and the sex? A myth – probably created by seniors to lure innocent high school students into university and make them believe that college would change their lives for the better. 

Coming from the countryside, Taemin had imagined Seoul to be a dream come true for everyone who wanted more from life than rice plantations and stock farming, but soon he had understood that he had exchanged his cozy and peaceful life in a rural area several hours away from Seoul for a life that was conducted by stress and noise. He shared an apartment unit in a dormitory complex near his university campus with four other students who were older than him, all of them so different in their personalities and daily life routines that Taemin had a hard time adapting to his new life. 

There was Jinki, the senior of the group. Some rumored him to be part of the inventory already, and no one knew exactly how old Jinki was or how many semesters he had already spent studying mechanical engineering. Was he a bachelor student? A master student? A Ph.D.? No one knew. He was just there, always running around in sweatpants and oversized t-shirts, his hair a mess, round, metal-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. Jinki was kind, but also very peculiar, constantly rambling about stuff Taemin didn’t understand or making bad puns no one ever laughed about. He hadn’t seen him much during his time at the dorm so far, and only ever passed him in the shared kitchen when Jinki snacked on cereal or anything else he found in the kitchen cupboards. 

Then there was Jonghyun, who studied literature and philosophy and was in his last year. He suffered from terrible mood swings and was nocturnal, often keeping Taemin awake at night because his flat-mate decided to listen to sappy love songs at three in the morning. If Jonghyun was in a good mood, he was fun to be with, always witty with his replies and telling interesting stories, but if he was in a bad mood Taemin tried his best to give him a wide berth, not wanting to fall victim under a tirade of hate towards the injustice in this world. He had made this mistake once in his second week of living in this dormitory and had learned from it.

The third of his flat-mates was Minho, who had been the most accommodating so far. He had explained to Taemin everything he had needed to know during his first few days as a freshman and was genuinely a nice person, always making sure that Taemin was doing okay and always offering him help if he needed it. Minho was a history major in his second year who liked to balance out his busy student life with exercising. He was a good kid but had a very vulgar sense of humor, loved to cuss and talk about sex all the time. Being a hardworking student, Taemin often caught him hunched over a pile of books in the dining area in the middle of the night when he was thirsty and wanted to grab something to drink from the fridge. 

The last one was Kibum, who had a very engaging and unique personality. Sometimes Taemin wondered if the other ever stopped talking. He studied intercultural communication to work for his parents’ business after graduating and was fluent in at least four languages, which was quite impressive in Taemin’s eyes. Taemin had never been interested in becoming fluent in any other language than his mother tongue and sometimes even struggled to form coherent sentences in Korean when he was nervous. Kibum usually hung around with international students, brought them to their shared apartment, and cooked dishes from all around the world with them. If Taemin got lucky enough he was invited to sit down and have dinner with them, which was always a blessing for his wallet and his belly. However, he didn’t understand much of the stuff they talked about at the table, because they usually conversed in English, so whenever Taemin was asked something he would only smile and give a thumbs-up, hoping that this gesture wouldn’t offend anyone. 

Both Minho and Kibum came from a good home – were the so-called rich kids in their unit, Minho’s dad a soccer coach for a popular club while Kibum’s parents had their own company and traded with businesses overseas. Sometimes Taemin felt bad when the two talked about their parents and their childhood, his own family background rather ordinary in comparison; his mom a housewife while his dad worked as the director of a middle school in his hometown. His family had never struggled financially, but the luxurious life Minho and Kibum had lived with studying abroad during high school and going on vacation to foreign countries were a complete unknown to him, the farthest he had ever traveled with his parents being Jeju Island. To him, it was easier to relate to Jonghyun, who had grown up with a single mother in a small apartment in the city’s suburbs and now financed his life with a scholarship and a part-time job in the library of his faculty. Jinki’s parents owned a little butchery in the other’s hometown, his mother sometimes sending him delicious meat via express delivery, always packing extra so he could share it with his flat-mates. He always appeared to be the most down-to-earth out of all his flat-mates, a young man who would easily survive if someone abandoned him in the countryside. 

Overall, living in a dorm was less spectacular than Taemin had imagined it to be during high school. He missed his family and friends at home, his two dogs, and the feeling of being pampered and cared for all day. There was no one to clean his room, no one to do his laundry, and no one to cook him dinner. In the beginning, it had felt like he had to grow up overnight, and the thought had overwhelmed him for days until Minho had taken him aside and had invited him to play a round of soccer on the lawn near their dormitory. “Being away from home for the first time is always hard, but you will get used to it eventually. Dorm life can be fun, believe me, and you are not alone; you have the four of us now. Think of us as your older brothers,” Minho had explained while jogging over the grass with the worn-out soccer ball, passing the ball over to Taemin with a wink when he had finished his little motivational speech. 

Fun. 

Taemin doubted that.

His lectures were exhausting and work already piled up on his desk because he couldn’t encourage himself to study diligently. On top of that, he missed his privacy, and having his room between Kibum’s and Jonghyun’s didn’t make things better. The walls were paper-thin and he could hear Kibum sometimes masturbating between midnight and one am, and Jonghyun’s singing when the latter decided to throw karaoke parties in his room. It was exhausting and affected his mood.

University life wasn’t fun like everyone always claimed it to be…

…it was emotionally and physically draining. 

**Chapter 1**

“Yah! Jonghyun! Did you shave in the shower again and didn’t clean the drain? You are so gross.” 

Taemin looked up from the homework he was trying to do at the kitchen table when he heard Kibum’s voice echoing from the shower stalls. Jonghyun, who sat on the opposite side of him, looked up from his laptop as well, frowning.

“Why am I always the one you blame everything on?” he roared back, Taemin’s eyes wandering over to Kibum who shuffled through the corridor in only a pair of gray slippers and a white towel tied around his hips. 

“Because you are the only one in this apartment who likes to run around like a naked mole-rat,” he specified and waggled his fingers over his crotch area. 

Taemin always stayed silent whenever these two started fighting in public over trivial things like shower hygiene, unwashed dishes, or an open window, and took a bite from his cereal bar instead, eyes dancing back and forth between Kibum and Jonghyun as if he was attending a tennis match. 

Most of the time they acted like they hated each other, and in the beginning, Taemin had truly believed that they did, until that fateful day when he had left his room to take a shower and had heard low moans and swearing coming from one of the two showers in their unit, the voices clearly belonging to Jonghyun and Kibum. Turning around on the spot he had decided that he could wait for another half hour before he needed to shower, closing his bedroom door silently behind himself and settling down onto his bed, staring at the white wall in front of him. It wasn’t the thought of two guys being intimate with each other that had disturbed him, but the fact that it was Jonghyun and Kibum of all people, the two flat-mates who always seemed to tease and annoy each other for no particular reason.

After consulting Minho about his discovery, the older one had only laughed at him and had told him that he shouldn’t waste his thoughts on these two, because no one understood their relationship. “It’s some sort of fucked-up sexual tension,” Minho had presumed as he lay next to Taemin on the grass after the two of them had played a round of basketball, throwing the ball up in the air only to catch it again. 

_Fucked-up sexual tension_. That was a nice way to put it. 

“Go and clean it!” Kibum stated after a quick exchange of profanities, Jonghyun only shaking his head stubbornly and turning his head back to his laptop.

“You can’t make me do it! You’ve got no evidence to support your accusations! It’s Minho’s turn to clean the showers anyway. Make him do it!” 

Kibum’s lips pulled into a thin line and Taemin could see how the other’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed Jonghyun’s arm and tried to pull him up, Jonghyun’s own eyes widening. 

“Yah! Stop pulling me! You are so fucked up!” Jonghyun growled and tried to get out of Kibum’s grip. But Kibum was relentless, not giving in an inch, tugging on the other’s arm until he finally gave in and reluctantly stood up from his chair.

“You are batshit crazy, Kibum,” he hissed, shook off the other’s hand with force, and stomped off into the hinder part of the apartment. Kibum waddled after him quickly with a triumphant smirk on his lips, and Taemin slowly realized that Kibum hadn’t actually been interested in the other cleaning the shower. Maybe there hadn’t even been hair in the drain to begin with. It was a pretense to lure Jonghyun in, like a mantis who was ready to bite the male’s head off.

Taemin looked after them for a second and, as if Jonghyun wanted to confirm his theory, he didn’t turn left to the showers but went straight ahead into Kibum’s room, the door falling shut behind them. _What a fucked-up relationship the two of them had,_ was all Taemin thought as he took another bite off his cereal bar, trying to ignore the squeaking of Kibum’s bed that followed after a few minutes of silence.

* * *

“And you are sure they are not a couple?”

Taemin lay in the grass, strands of black hair sticking to his forehead, his heart still beating frantically in his chest from the heated soccer match he had played against Minho. It was a hot day, the sun burning down on his body, small drops of sweat rolling down his neck, his skin prickling.

“I’m quite sure Jonghyun would like to be in a relationship, but Kibum is not having any of it. He likes having sex with different people just a little too much,” Minho explained casually, his long, muscular legs high up in the air as he balanced the soccer ball between his sneakers. 

“How do you know?”

“I mean – we – meaning Jinki, Jonghyun, I – and many other people living in this building have already had sex with him. To Kibum, sex is like food. He wants to try different cuisines, different flavors every other day,” Minho shrugged as if he was talking about their flat-mate’s preferences when it came to food, and let his legs sink almost down to the ground before he lifted them again. 

“You slept with Kibum?”

“Yeah,” Minho answered him. “Why do you sound so surprised? It can get lonely here, and Kibum knows what he’s doing. I wonder why he hasn’t approached you yet. Maybe you are too vanilla for him.”

Minho turned his head to look at Taemin, a smile appearing on his lips when Taemin frowned. Vanilla? What was that supposed to mean?

“Vanilla?” he asked out loud, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“Yeah – we like to call freshmen from the countryside that. Innocent, uncorrupted, sweet, slightly naïve – just like vanilla.” 

“If I’m vanilla, what are you?” 

“Chocolate,” Minho grinned with a wink and pulled up his sweaty soccer jersey from Arsenal London, his abs contracting nicely beneath tanned skin as Minho continued doing his leg lifts. Taemin couldn’t compete with that, he figured, and poked his belly beneath a worn old gray t-shirt which already spotted small holes at the hem. His stomach was flat but not trained and therefore slightly squishy, almost resembling the softness of a plushie. Taemin didn’t have any intention of having sex with Kibum, not that he had ever thought about that until now anyway, but it somehow hurt his pride to know that the other was seemingly not picky when it came to the selection of his sex partners and yet hadn’t made any moves on him. Was there something wrong with the way he looked or behaved? Was he too much of a country boy?

“Ever had sex with a guy?” 

When Taemin shook his head, Minho halted in his movements, looking amused. He might have kissed one or two guys during a round of Truth or Dare in high school, and he might have liked it a little more than he had admitted in front of his friends, but there had never been an opportunity for him to explore this territory any further. If there had been any bi-curious or gay guys in his former class or even in his school they had hidden themselves quite well.

“Interested in trying it out some time?” 

“Why? Are you volunteering?” Taemin replied calmly, sinking into the grass, and shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. While Taemin had been a little shy in the beginning when it had come to talking about sex with his flat-mates, he had become accustomed to their frank way of speaking with each other by now, his introvert countryside-self adopting the customs of the boys living in the city quite well and picking up their crude language. While sex had been treated as something sacred and precious at home, people in Seoul seemed to fuck with everyone and anyone at any given time. City dwellers were something else entirely, but he liked their bluntness, their open-minded way of thinking, something he had missed while living in the countryside, where sex education had consisted of telling kids not to have sex before they got married. 

“You are cute, so sure, why not?” Minho argued. “During university one should try out everything at least once; it’s a good time to discover yourself. So, if you feel lonely and need a helping hand, you know where my room is. Some curiosity never harmed anyone.”

“And here I was, naïvely believing you are only here to consult me as an older brother without any ulterior motives,” Taemin mused and rolled onto his stomach, placing his head onto his crossed arms to let the sun warm his back. 

Maybe university life wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, maybe – just maybe – it could be fun after all. Trying out everything at least once sounded good to him, though he wondered what his best friend back home would think if he told him he had been approached by a guy instead of a girl. A dull groan left his lips when he felt something heavy press down onto his thighs all of a sudden, his head turning to the side to see the older one hovering above him, giving his butt a light tap.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just offered, but it’s up to you what you make out of it.” 

* * *

It was a month after Taemin had moved in when he realized that there was more to their apartment unit than he had initially thought. Slowly, all the puzzle pieces fell into place and his flat-mates’ behavior started to make more sense to him as days passed.

Though Jonghyun seemed like a guy who carried a lot of emotional baggage around that he didn’t talk about – at least not with Taemin – his mood seemed immensely influenced by the continuous change of Kibum’s conquests, like some people claimed that their sleep was influenced by the moon. There seemed to be a pattern within their unconventional relationship; days in which Kibum preferred to have Jonghyun inside his bed, and days in which Kibum didn’t come home and favored other people’s beds. Jonghyun always seemed to be in a particularly bad mood whenever Kibum was gone two nights in a row, placing the dishes louder into the sink than necessary and throwing the doors shut loudly behind himself, making Taemin flinch every time it happened.

Taemin felt stupid for not having noticed it earlier, for being so close-minded that he had observed his flat-mates only superficially. Kibum wasn’t even secretive about his self-indulgent lifestyle: he pranced around the apartment in his stylish clothes and acted like it was completely natural to sleep with everyone he wanted. He seemed insatiable like a siren, guiding unknowing sailors to their doom. 

“You know, there are other fish in the sea. You both seem to want different things from each other,” Taemin dared to say one day after Kibum had disappeared into Jinki’s room, resulting in Jonghyun pressing down the keys on his laptop with way too much force. It had become one of his new habits to join the other at the table in their shared little kitchen since he couldn’t concentrate on his work in his small bedroom, and it was nice to have some company while studying, since it kept him motivated and focused. 

“Tell me something I don’t know yet,” Jonghyun replied with a long sigh and stretched his arms over his head, taking a look outside the window. “He makes you feel special when you are alone with him. It’s a trap, but I still fell for it,” the older one explained further and looked at Taemin, forcing himself to a smile. He liked Jonghyun’s smile, it had a boyish charm to it, emitted a certain familiarity that reminded him of his best friend’s smile at home. 

“Have you slept with any other people since you’ve started this weird thing with him?” Taemin inquired cautiously, getting up from the chair to grab some apple juice from the fridge. Objectively speaking, Jonghyun was way too attractive to waste his time on someone who didn’t seem to care about him. If they had been classmates in his former high school, Taemin was sure that all the girls would have been head over heels for him. Jonghyun was more cautious towards strangers than Minho was but still tried his best to make the people around him feel comfortable. He had done so with Taemin by talking to him, showing interest in where he came from and what he liked after he had just moved in. He had made it easier for Taemin to settle in, to not miss home as much. 

“I did, but it’s not the same. Kibum just knows what he’s doing,” Jonghyun stated simply while Taemin took a glass from the kitchen cupboard.

 _Kibum just knows what he’s doing_. It was the second time he had heard that sentence from someone and at this point he was curious about what exactly the other knew that made sex with him so good. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked frankly and poured himself some apple juice before coming back to the table and sitting down in his chair again.

A low chuckle left the other’s mouth and he leaned a little over the table, saying almost in a whisper: “He’s an incredible good tease. Drives you to the edge over and over again until you think that you might break any second. He’s quite good with pressure points. Having sex with him has some spiritual touch to it. It’s very intense. That’s probably the main reason for his reputation on campus as being a great lay.” 

Taemin was doubtful, eyebrows arched, head tilted to the side. Spiritual experience. Jonghyun’s description made Kibum sound like some kind of sex guru who changed people’s outlook on life with the help of his bare hands. 

“You don’t seem convinced,” Jonghyun grinned. “If you get the chance you should try it for yourself,” he said, causing the frown on Taemin’s face to deepen.

“But I thought you dislike it when other people have sex with him?” 

“And? It’s not like I can change anything about the way Kibum is. We’re not exclusive after all.” There was a tinge of bitterness swinging in his voice as Jonghyun shrugged and concentrated back on the laptop screen.

A slight pout appeared on Taemin’s lips. “Minho said I’m too vanilla for Kibum.” 

Jonghyun instinctively began to snicker and he looked back up at Taemin, small wrinkles visible at the corners of his eyes. It was a kind face he looked at, a smile so pretty it was infectious. 

“There is nothing bad about being vanilla. I love vanilla very much. It’s sweet and savory. Don’t listen to Minho, he probably only wants you for himself, because he likes vanilla a lot.”

All those ice cream references made Taemin’s head ache, one hand gliding up to his neck to massage his nape. University was all about experimenting, right? Maybe he should just go with the flow and see what was going to happen. Maybe being vanilla was a good thing and not as bad as it sounded. At least vanilla tasted good and could be easily combined with any other ice cream flavor, right?

* * *

Jinki just stood there one morning, leaning against the kitchen counter: bed hair, a white wrinkled t-shirt with stains from wiping grease from his hands, and gray sweatpants; sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination, and Taemin just couldn’t help but stare, blinking his eyes in disbelief. He tried to look at the cupboards behind Jinki’s head, tried to keep his eyes above chest level, but he couldn’t help it; the outline of Jinki’s dick was as visible as the mug of coffee in his hand. Only a suspicious snort and a teasing side blow made him turn his head and Minho grinned knowingly, winking at him, of all things.

“We dubbed it the Anaconda. It’s legendary,” the older remarked for everyone to hear, making even Jonghyun look up from the other side of the table, where he sat in front of his laptop. He merely glanced at Jinki before an agreeing hum left his lips. 

“Be careful, I’ve heard if you stare at it for too long it comes out to get you,” he teased with a grin, making Taemin want to disappear underneath the table. 

“Yah, are you two dickheads talking about my cock again?” Jinki called over, taking a sip from his mug, and both Minho and Jonghyun pointed immediately at Taemin.

“It was Taemin. You know how the new ones always are, they can never stop staring,” Jonghyun elaborated, making Taemin sink deeper and deeper into his chair, slurping his banana milk through the tiny straw stuck in the plastic bottle. 

“God, you two are awful. Don’t you see that you are making him uncomfortable? I’m sorry, Taemin,” Jinki apologized on their behalf and pulled his t-shirt further down. It didn’t help to hide the bulge in his sweatpants, but Taemin appreciated the gesture just the same. 

“I still think mine is bigger, though. Jinki’s dick is just meaty. He’s more of a shower not a grower,” Minho interjected, talking about dicks, and sex, and vaginas so regularly that no one even paid much attention to it anymore.

“Yes, Choi, we all know you could compete with a horse.” From the other side of the table, Jonghyun rolled his eyes at Minho. Taemin giggled silently into his banana milk, blowing bubbles, and stopped immediately when he caught Jonghyun grinning at him.

“Are we having dick envy again? I’m sorry that Mother Nature wasn’t that nice to you,” Minho said, then yelped when Jonghyun kicked him beneath the table.

Taemin was not quite sure what he was watching right now. Two peacocks during rutting season? But who was the peacock they wanted to impress? 

“Violence is not a solution,” Minho preached and rubbed his knee with a pained expression. 

“And the ability to speak doesn’t give you an excuse to talk bullshit,” Jonghyun replied indifferently and looked back at his laptop. Taemin liked the way Jonghyun always expressed himself; he was witty and funny and had good timing when it came to delivering jokes. 

“If you continue like this, that poor kid will soon apply for a room change – just like the last one,” Jinki sighed, sounding exhausted. Taemin wasn’t sure if he was exhausted from life or his flat-mates; both options seemed logical. He waved at them and then shuffled over to his room, perhaps not wanting to deal with his flat-mates’ nonsense any longer. 

“Taeminnie, among the two of us – imagine: you, Jonghyun, and I are the last three people on earth. Who would you choose to be with?” Minho asked then, taking a sip from a transparent tumbler that contained a green liquid. 

Taemin looked at him in confusion. That was a question he had never asked himself before.

“You don’t have to answer, Taemin-ah. Just ignore him. Minho is at his peak of being annoying in the morning. It’s best to just pretend he isn’t there,” Jonghyun stepped in, pointing at his ears. 

“Yah! You are just upset because he would choose me,” Minho called out loudly, while Jonghyun pretended as if he hadn’t heard anything, cupping his hand around his ear as a hearing aid and pulling funny faces. 

“Did you say something, Taemin? I couldn’t hear it. There was so much noise coming from outside the window,” Jonghyun acted cutely, conjuring a smile on Taemin’s face. Jonghyun winked at him then and ducked his head as Minho threw an eraser at his face, yelling at Jonghyun to stop ignoring him. 

* * *

“Oh man, you are so going to die. What a lousy choice,” Taemin called out mockingly as he checked Jonghyun’s character selection on his laptop screen. The two of them sat at the kitchen table on opposite sides with their laptops in front of them, each of them running the game Mortal Kombat X in multiplayer mode. 

“Goro will smash your tiny human head with four arms instead of two, just wait and see. Scorpion is someone you would only choose as a noob because he’s easy to play,” Jonghyun retorted provocatively, sniggering when Taemin kicked him beneath the table. 

“Trying to compensate for something by playing the tallest character in the game?” Taemin countered and grinned around a chocolate bar, Jonghyun’s mouth making a shocked sound as he looked over at Taemin with wide eyes. 

They had spent several nights playing computer games at the kitchen table after Taemin found out that Jonghyun had a thing for stupid fighting games without any real substance, just like he did. It was nice to put one’s mind on standby at times, to concentrate on just hitting different combos on his keyboard to start a special attack or go into defense mode. Knowing that Jonghyun shared the same sentiment of wanting to smash someone’s head against the floor sometimes, in a fictional setting, made him feel less alone in a household that consisted of people who didn’t game at all – Kibum and Jinki – or people who hyped games like FIFA more than the games deserved – namely Minho. The other had joined them in the beginning, but after he had realized that both Jonghyun and Taemin were far better at fighting games than he was, he had stopped sitting down with them altogether, now rolling his eyes at them and calling them nerds without a life whenever they brought their laptops and snacks into the kitchen for another mindless night of gaming. 

Taemin jumped up from the chair and raised his arms in triumph when he beat Jonghyun’s character for the fifth time, the screen reading “Fatality – Scorpion Wins” with Goro’s head sliced off and the forehead impaled on a sword shown next to it. Jonghyun let himself fall back into the chair and tore at his hair, strands of brown hair standing up in all directions. 

“Luck, mere luck,” he commented with a smile, a better loser than Minho, who would have just left the room if Taemin had won against him several times in a row. 

“I told you Goro doesn’t stand a chance against Scorpion,” Taemin gestured around, wiggled around happily to Jonghyun’s amusement, and then sat down again to wiggle around some more. 

“You are adorable,” Jonghyun chuckled and Taemin raised his juice glass to celebrate his victory. 

“Change your character. I know you can do better than this. I want an equal fight,” he said, a small pout on his lips. Jonghyun hummed in agreement and they went back to their character settings, Jonghyun propping up his head in one hand as he browsed his options. 

“Take Sub-Zero – he’s always a good choice,” Taemin suggested, having locked in Scorpion again. The character with the golden mask had always been one of his favorites to play and he knew all his movements by heart, rarely needing to think about what keys to press.

“Nah – I go with Kitana. I used to play her in the older games all the time.”

Taemin cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting choice.”

“I always loved her hand fans with the blades,” Jonghyun explained and formed a fan opening in front of him with his fingers, trying to look extra cool while doing it. 

The next fight was won by Jonghyun – if only by a hair because Taemin’s greasy fingers had slipped from the keys and he had hit the wrong one by accident to defend himself, Kitana’s hand fans tearing right through his head twice in the next second. 

“That was luck,” he sulked when Jonghyun clapped his hands above his head and imitated Taemin’s face when he saw it. 

“Victory is victory – I won fair and square.” He gave a cute shoulder shrug and then babied his laptop screen as if to tell it _Good job_ , making Taemin shake his head with a chuckle. 

“Do you have anyone at home?” Jonghyun asked, all of a sudden, as they started the next match, the other punctuating every single move he did with little sounds.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taemin replied with a frown, eyes fixed on the screen, trying to drive Kitana into a corner with Scorpion’s whip. 

“A girlfriend, a boyfriend – someone?” Jonghyun elaborated quickly and hissed when Scorpion’s whip hit Kitana and his character lost energy. 

Taemin looked up from the screen for a second and tilted his head, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. 

“Nah – why?” 

He began a special attack, which Jonghyun unfortunately blocked. In return, he blocked Kitana’s attack, the characters on the screen going back and forth, a dark forest displayed in the background.

“Just making conversation,” Jonghyun said and moved his body to the side as if it helped his character to be more effective in the game. 

Taemin smirked. “Fair enough. I already thought you wanted to flirt with me,” he joked, looking up again to see that Jonghyun was looking right back at him. 

“Why’s that? Would you mind?” A hint of curiosity resonated in the question, and Taemin used Jonghyun’s lack of attention to start his final attack, sending a fireball right through Kitana’s chest and leaving a hole the size of a head in her body. “Fatality – Scorpion wins.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I just wouldn’t know how to flirt back – at all,” Taemin said easily, not stressing the fact that he had won yet another time. He could enjoy his victory without bragging about it. 

“Don’t you flirt in the countryside?” Jonghyun teased, the two of them naturally starting another match without pausing for even a minute. 

“We’re only dating cows and sheep over there – and those aren’t that talkative,” Taemin rummaged in the deepest box of clichés about people from the countryside, making Jonghyun laugh.

“Does have its advantages, no? No one’s going to talk back at least.”

“Yeah, there is also no one to laugh at my accent,” Taemin said lowly, concentrating back on the game. Jonghyun was apparently remembering Kitana’s special combos now, firing one after the other at Scorpion, and Taemin was having a hard time blocking them. 

“But your dialect is cute. I like it when you talk. _annyoenghaseyuuu_ ~,” Jonghyun said in a cute voice, almost perfectly imitating Taemin’s Chungcheong dialect by switching o’s to u’s and yo’s to yu’s for the next few minutes, making Taemin laugh so much that he lost the game. Whether it had been a strategy or just a way to make him laugh, Taemin wasn’t sure, but he could live with this defeat, enjoying Jonghyun’s attempt at _satoori_ way too much. 

“You have a talent for it,” Taemin grinned and took another sip from his juice.

Jonghyun cocked his head cutely. “I try to pay attention to how you say certain things – What did you call chopsticks again? I already forgot.”

“ _Jeobeom_ ,” Taemin pointed out, “But I’m trying so hard to speak Seoul dialect. Is it still that noticeable?” 

Taemin had worried about his dialect so much when he first came to Seoul, not wanting to be exposed as a boy from the countryside the minute he opened his mouth, so he had diligently practiced his accent by watching TV and parroting the actors’ and news reporters’ way of speaking, but depending on the situation, the countryside still jumped out of him. 

“It’s a lot better than when you first moved in. But you don’t need to worry about it. It sounds very charming. I like it when people speak a dialect. It gives them more character,” Jonghyun explained with a smile. “Kibum is originally from Daegu but his parents moved here when he was like 12 or something, so you can’t normally hear his accent anymore when he speaks. But he knows the most hilarious idioms.” 

“Yeah, he taught me a few, but I forgot all of them already,” Taemin nodded, starting another match.

They played until 2 am, Jonghyun generally a night owl and Taemin savoring the chance of playing a game against a worthy opponent as long as possible. After having enough of Mortal Kombat, they continued with Street Fighter and Tekken, Taemin standing – surprisingly enough – no chance against Jonghyun in either of these games and noting that he had to practice both games in secret, to win against the other. They high fived each other after the final round, Jonghyun stretching in his chair while both their laptops shut down. 

“That was fun,” Taemin said with a yawn and stretched as well, rolling his head around to ease the tension in his shoulders a bit.

“Definitely. Maybe we should play something like Diablo III next time. It’s fun in multiplayer modus,” Jonghyun suggested, voice quieter now that their other flat-mates were in their rooms, most likely asleep already. 

Taemin picked up both their glasses and placed them in the sink, not bothering to wash them. He could wash them tomorrow or hope that one of the others would. 

“I have played III only once when it was released and didn’t like it at all. So disappointing. I still prefer II over it any day despite the poor graphics,” Taemin explained and shuffled back to the table, watching Jonghyun get up from his chair and close his laptop.

“Diablo II it is then. Which character did you play?” he wanted to know as he collected all their garbage, packaging from Taemin’s chocolate bars and small empty bags that had been filled with sour worms from Jonghyun.

“Necromancer. You?”

“The Bowazon. Loved her. She’s badass,” Jonghyun retorted and threw their garbage into the bin. 

“You and all those badass girl characters. Looking at your character choices in games, one could think you are the biggest het on this planet,” Taemin pointed out, leaning his bum against the kitchen table, when Jonghyun came back and positioned himself in front of him.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Since when does sexual preference have something to do with what character one chooses in a game? Do the Paladin or the Barbarian sound gayer to you?” he questioned with a frown, Taemin not sure what to respond because the longer he thought about it, the more he realized how stupid and quite insulting his comment had been, and being insulting was the last thing Taemin wanted to be.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought because of the boobs and the little clothing they are wearing,” he stammered and felt his ears turn warm. When Jonghyun began to chuckle lowly and patted his head, he wasn’t sure how to interpret the gesture, blinking his eyes, confused.

“It’s okay. No need to get awkward. Just think before you speak next time, _hm_?” Jonghyun tousled his hair, trying to cheer him up again. Taemin didn’t know how to classify the tingling he felt when Jonghyun patted his head. 

“Good night now. I have classes at half-past eight tomorrow. So I better go to bed,” Jonghyun said, poking Taemin’s stomach playfully before grabbing his laptop.

“Good night,” Taemin replied in a low voice, smiling at Jonghyun when the other passed him and left for his room, leaving him behind. Taemin took his laptop and went back to his room, not bothering to brush his teeth before falling into bed, wondering what it said about him when he played characters like Scorpion and the Necromancer in games. Did it mean that he was someone who was always looking for shortcuts? Choosing the easiest route to reach a goal?

* * *

“I’m glad that you two decided to join us today,” Minho smiled appreciatively at Jonghyun and Jinki who stood next to him and Taemin on the basketball court, Jinki wearing knee-length gray cotton shorts and a t-shirt and Jonghyun an incredibly large black tank-top and black shorts. 

Jonghyun stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, wearing sunglasses on his nose and already looking as if he regretted coming out at all. He had tagged along because Taemin had begged him to the previous night, while they were fighting the end boss of Act I in Diablo II, since it was a little dull to be always playing sports alone against Minho. Jinki had volunteered to join them during breakfast to have an even number of players, saying that it was a good change from working on his computer all day.

“If it gets any hotter, I’m out, just saying,” Jonghyun grumbled, and touched his naked shoulders, looking like he feared the sun might burn them. 

“Afraid that you might turn to dust when the sun hits your skin?” Minho teased, bouncing the ball in one hand. “It’s not even hot anymore. Don’t make such a fuss.” 

Taemin couldn’t see it, but he expected Jonghyun to roll his eyes behind his shades, their small get-together likely to be the first and last of its kind, if Minho continued to talk to Jonghyun like that. Sorting them by physical build, Jinki ended up pairing with Jonghyun and Minho with Taemin, Minho unable to resist making teasing comments regarding Jonghyun’s height whenever the smaller one tried to prevent him from throwing the ball into the basket and failing miserably at it, because Minho could just jump over him. That neither Jinki nor Taemin were tall didn’t seem to bother Minho, Jonghyun was the one who had to suffer through every existing joke about someone’s height. Maybe it was because it bothered him the most. Jonghyun endured the teasing in silence, but Taemin could imagine that he would rant about it the next time the two of them met up for their next Diablo quest. 

“Minho, you are annoying,” Jinki uttered after a while, sweat running down his temples as he bent down, hands on his thighs, Minho having thrown a basket for what seemed like the tenth time, playing way more aggressively than Taemin was used to seeing him. 

Minho smiled brightly and dribbled around the older one, tousling his hair in the process. 

“You must have been a delight to be with as a kid during P.E,” Jonghyun said sarcastically, arms glistening with sweat. The other had played surprisingly well so far, at least a lot better than Taemin had expected from him. 

“Not my fault that you all lack competitive spirit,” Minho claimed and shrugged his shoulders, bouncing the ball to Taemin. 

“Because we’re playing for fun and not to win something,” Jonghyun sighed and made his way over to Taemin to block him from getting near the basket. “That was an awful idea,” he murmured under his breath when he was close to Taemin’s ear. Taemin tried to make himself small and escape Jonghyun by sneaking away under his arm, the attempt proving unsuccessful when Jonghyun moved his body around and Taemin ran straight into his chest. 

“Got you,” he grinned, and Taemin stuck out his tongue at him as he threw the ball back to Minho, who had a harder time overcoming Jinki’s block than Taemin had with Jonghyun’s. It wasn’t because Jinki was taller or jumped higher than Jonghyun but because Jinki broke the rules and began to use his hands to try and prevent Minho from throwing a basket, tickling his sides until Minho lost control over the ball and let it fall, Jinki seizing the chance to grab the ball and throw a basket himself.

“Yah, that was foul play,” Minho whined as soon as the ball went through, Jinki lifting his hands innocently. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” Jinki looked at both Jonghyun and Taemin who shook their heads with a collective grin, making Minho infuriated.

“Yah, Taemin-ah, you are on my team,” he yelled, as the three other players began to laugh at Minho’s antics. 

“Calm down, it was just one basket. We’re still leading 1.000.000 to what? 10?” Taemin chuckled, patting Minho’s shoulder calmly. 

Minho visibly sulked, his brown eyes wide and protruding as he felt betrayed and wronged by his teammate. “That’s beside the point. If this was an actual game, Jinki would get the yellow card for it,” he fumed, while Jinki leisurely ran around with the ball in his hands, making grimaces behind Minho’s back. Minho was hilarious when he felt wronged and Taemin had to hide his smile behind a hand to not make him even angrier.

“Choi, it’s just a game. Calm down. No touching anymore,” Jonghyun served as a peacemaker and caught the ball Jinki threw towards him. Taemin ran right after him to block any attempts of throwing the ball into the basket but stumbled over the open laces of his right shoe in the process and fell forwards, pulling Jonghyun with him to the ground, the pair crashing onto the concrete with a thump and the ball rolling away. Taemin’s wrist and elbow hurt as he had tried to cushion the blow by supporting himself on his hand – which had been a bad idea, as it turned out; the palm scraped bloody and little stones clinging to the torn skin. 

"Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said when he looked over at Jonghyun, who lay on the ground in front of him, elbow and knee grazed and bleeding. Minho and Jinki came running right away and helped them up. Even Jonghyun’s chin had sustained a cut, and Taemin apologized over and over again. After all, the other had only come with them because Taemin had asked him to.

“It’s nothing, Taemin-ah. It’s fine. Are you okay?” Jonghyun said in a comforting voice, looking worriedly over at Taemin, who was still checking him over for additional cuts. Asphalt courts were the worst, Taemin figured and held onto his wrist, which hurt quite badly. He nodded anyway, not wanting to worry anyone. It was his stupidity that had gotten them into this situation. 

“We should get you two to the doctor’s office so they can disinfect the cuts,” Jinki suggested, holding onto Jonghyun’s tummy as if it needed emotional support.

Both Taemin and Jonghyun were reluctant to trouble anyone with their injuries. “It’s okay. I’m fine; just scratches. Some water and some plasters will do just fine,” Jonghyun said as he held onto his chin, trying to slow the bleeding, but blood was already running down his throat and seeping into his tank top. The wound looked like it might need stitches. “But Taemin’s wrist doesn’t seem fine.” 

“No, it’s all good. I just tried not to fall face-first onto the ground and fell onto my wrist instead,” Taemin tried to reason, but neither Jinki nor Minho seemed willing to argue with them, so they made their way to the doctor’s office belonging to the complex of dormitories around campus, the nurses there kindly cleaning the wounds, a doctor stitching Jonghyun’s chin up and bandaging Taemin’s wrist, after concluding that he had sprained his wrist in the fall. Taemin had never imagined ending up in a doctor’s office when he asked Jonghyun to play a game of basketball with them, and he felt guilty as he looked at the Band-aids covering Jonghyun’s chin, elbow, and knee while he got bandaged up himself, sitting on the treatment table, holding a bottle with anti-inflammatory painkillers in his other hand. 

To apologize to Jonghyun, Taemin went to the convenience store near their dormitory in the evening and bought some beer and snacks he knew Jonghyun liked. The other opened the door to his room almost immediately when Taemin knocked a little later, Jonghyun huddled up in a sweater, the air conditioning turned on. His chin had turned a slightly purplish color, the sight of it making Taemin feel even guiltier. 

“Sorry for earlier. I have two left feet sometimes,” he apologized and lifted the bag in his good hand.

Jonghyun smiled as he let him in. “I told you, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Resting your wrist is more important,” he said and pointed at the chair at his desk for Taemin to sit down. 

“But you got stitched up. It will leave a scar,” Taemin sighed as he shuffled to the chair. Taemin had never been in Jonghyun’s room before, the two of them only ever meeting up in the kitchen. The room looked more lived-in than Taemin’s did: a poster of the moon hanging up above Jonghyun’s desk, candles standing next to the window, and a collection of books piled up on his desk and the top of his closet. There was also a framed picture next to his bed, showing him with a sweet-looking lady who probably was his mother. 

“That wasn’t the first time. I already got scars here and there – I don’t care,” Jonghyun shrugged and pointed to a small scar on the bridge of his nose and one next to his eye before he sat down on his bed. 

“Still, it was dumb. So – I’m sorry,” Taemin said, and awkwardly placed the plastic bag on his legs, clumsily taking out the beer and snacks he had brought with one hand. Jonghyun thanked him with a smile and helped him to open the beer cans, the two of them soon enjoying a cold beer in Jonghyun’s room.

“I guess we have to look for a game you can play with one hand for a few days, huh?” Jonghyun quipped after a while, his back leaning against the wall, legs pulled up towards his body. 

“Maybe we should try board games for a change,” Taemin replied with a grin and took a sip from his beer as his eyes wandered around the room curiously, taking everything in and looking for inspiration, his own four walls looking bleak in comparison. 

“They have some in the lounge downstairs,” Jonghyun pointed out and opened a bag of jelly beans Taemin had brought, first offering some to Taemin before he threw a bunch in his mouth. 

“Yah, Taemin-ah, can I ask you a personal question?” the other said then, munching a few jelly beans as Taemin blinked at him in reply.

“Sure?” He was hesitant, not sure what Jonghyun was about to ask. 

“Do you find it revolting how hard Minho is trying to get into your pants? Or do you find it flattering?”

Taemin almost choked on his beer and coughed awkwardly into his hand, only to find Jonghyun smirking when he looked up at him again.

“What?” He continued to cough, his voice coming out strained. He hadn’t noticed any such thing happening.

“You haven’t noticed? Oh, come on –,” Jonghyun tilted his head to the side in disbelief. “Yes, Minho is a competitive dude, but his rutting behavior is so obvious.” 

Taemin swallowed. “Is it?”

“Damn, you really _are_ from the countryside, aren’t you?” 

Taemin felt slightly insulted, unsure how his upbringing had anything to do with Minho’s alleged behavior towards him, and pouted into his beer can, not knowing what to say. 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Taemin-ah. Really,” Jonghyun tried to reconcile and fished another jelly bean from the bag. “Minho is generally a good guy, but – don’t – just don’t feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to, okay?” 

Taemin frowned slightly. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because I’m worried about our country boy here. It’s a known fact that Minho likes to conquer people. I don’t know what his intentions are regarding you – maybe he likes you,” Jonghyun shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all possible. But you know – just take it slowly.”

Taemin nodded silently, not quite sure what he was supposed to do with these warnings. He had no intention of being in a relationship with Minho, so what if he happened to be just a conquest? He could live with that easily and guilt-free. It was university, none of the decisions he made outside of his studies would affect his life. It was all just fun and games. 

“I have no intention of falling in love with someone who only has interest in what’s underneath my pants, so don’t worry,” Taemin said matter-of-factly, appreciating the words of advice but not needing to hear them. He was an adult who could care for himself. 

“That’s good to hear then,” Jonghyun smiled at him and took another sip from his beer. 

* * *

Taemin wasn’t sure how Jonghyun had ended up in his room a week after their conversation, the older one crouched on his knees while Taemin sat on his black swivel chair with his hands on the other’s head, his black jeans pushed down to his ankles, legs spread, Jonghyun’s head in between them, sucking him off. 

There had been a small gathering in the lounge on the ground floor of their dormitory, people getting drunk on cheap booze and music blaring from scratchy speakers that were connected to Kibum’s phone via Bluetooth. The atmosphere had been good and Taemin had danced around with various people, the beer having made his heart feel light and filled with love for everyone around him. There had been this girl he didn’t know whose tongue was in his mouth five minutes into dancing with her, and then there had been Minho, who had slung his arms around Taemin’s waist from behind and pulled him close to his chest, grinding up against him while Taemin had simply enjoyed his life as a university student. He had smiled all the while, high on endorphins, his head nicely spinning, and skin prickling wherever Minho had touched him. 

This was the kind of university life he had imagined in his dreams. 

At some point he had even danced with Jinki, who had left his crazy scientist hole to join their drinking bout and slurped soju from a mug, turning into a dancing maniac the more alcohol he consumed. In his slightly tipsy state, Taemin hadn’t even hesitated for one second to kiss his senior when Jinki’s face was close to his, their drunken kiss sloppy but intense, Jinki spilling his soju on Taemin’s t-shirt by accident when he tried to pull the younger one closer.

Taemin had only wanted to change his t-shirt and go back to their little party when the door to his room had swung open and Jonghyun stood in the door frame, dressed in a loose black tank top and black, ripped skinny jeans, a beer can in his hand. He hadn’t explained why he had come and had only closed the door behind him silently, while Taemin stood next to his bed, his t-shirt hanging around his head in a crumpled mess and his unbandaged hand awkwardly holding onto the collar. 

Without uttering a single word Jonghyun had stepped up to him, placed his beer can onto the desk behind them, and grabbed the hem of Taemin’s t-shirt to pull it over his head, letting the piece of fabric fall carelessly to the floor. 

“Thanks,” was the one thing Taemin had managed to say in his bewilderment before Jonghyun had leaned forward to kiss him. And now, here he was on his swivel chair, head tipped back, gaze unfocused, fingers holding onto brown-dyed hair, his temples throbbing, his dick having never been treated as well as it was right there. Jonghyun’s lips were soft and ran smoothly over the condom his dick was wrapped in, fingers working their magic around the base of Taemin’s cock, making him feel things he hadn’t in quite some time.

Taemin didn’t know what was happening or why it was happening, but he didn’t want to complain. He liked Jonghyun a lot, so he didn’t see a problem with starting his ‘experimenting around at university’ project with someone other than Minho. It was not like he had signed a contract with Minho regarding it.

He let Jonghyun guide him, needy little sounds leaving his lips when the older one got up to straddle his thighs. Hands running down over Jonghyun’s backside he felt his dick twitch when the other began to rub himself against him, the rough fabric of his jeans causing pleasant sensations to ripple through Taemin’s body.

“You are cute, you know that, right?” Jonghyun whispered into his ear, resulting in a shudder running down Taemin’s spine. No one had ever approached him in such a confident and self-assured manner, someone who knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it, and Taemin was turning to wax in Jonghyun’s hands. He hadn’t even realized that Jonghyun had any interest in him that went beyond gaming, but he was thankful to be in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing. The swivel chair squeaked under their weight, Jonghyun pulling his tank top over his head and flinging it aside. The other’s torso was more defined than his collection of oversized sweaters and t-shirts might make one believe, and Taemin automatically reached forward to let his fingers glide over the other’s abs, his attention caught by a small patch of blank ink peeping out from the waistband of Jonghyun’s jeans.

“You’ve got a tattoo?” he asked, astonished, and Jonghyun only hummed in reply, fingers opening the button on his jeans to expose the piece of ink a little, making it quite obvious that the other wasn’t wearing any underwear. Kibum hadn’t been lying: Jonghyun was indeed shaved, not a single hair visible on his skin. Taemin’s dick involuntarily jerked at the mental image. 

“I still can’t see it well,” Taemin heard himself say, coaxing an amused little chuckle from Jonghyun, who stood up from his lap and pulled the jeans down his narrow hips without any shame, stepping out of them to discard the garment with one foot. Saliva filled Taemin’s mouth and he swallowed hard, eyes roaming over broad shoulders and down to a small waist, the muscles leading smoothly to Jonghyun’s crotch. The black tattoo, a feather that dissolved into little hearts at the tip and the word _love_ written in convoluted Latin letters beneath it, was placed nicely below the loin on his right side, reaching down to his thigh. 

“Like it?” Jonghyun asked with a smirk, but Taemin was not quite sure if ‘like’ was the accurate way to describe his feelings. Instead of saying anything, he stood up on wobbly feet and got rid of his jeans and underwear before he placed one hand on Jonghyun’s neck and pulled him close, lips pressing down hungrily, the bandaged hand wandering to Jonghyun’s side and coming to a halt on his hip. His sprained wrist wasn’t as painful as it had been in the beginning, but it still hurt quite a bit, depending on how Taemin turned it, so he was careful not to put too much pressure on it.

Taemin wasn’t sure what he was doing, what they were doing, but it felt natural, as if it had been only a matter of time for something like this to happen in one way or another. 

“You don’t have any lube nearby, right?” Jonghyun asked between kisses, his arms around Taemin’s neck, fingers playing with the tips of his hair. 

“No,” Taemin answered, a little breathlessly, lips nipping on the soft skin of Jonghyun’s neck, weirdly excited to suddenly be this close to Jonghyun, the Jonghyun he had started a quest to defeat Diablo with only a few days ago. He leaned down to press a light kiss to the little wound on Jonghyun’s chin, kissing the stitches, wanting the injury to heal faster.

“Do you want me to get some?” He looked up at Taemin for a second, hands coming around to touch his chest. Taemin wasn’t sure what words to use, not wanting to appear dumb, so he merely nodded, receiving a small smile and a peck to his lips in return.

“Give me a second. I’ll be right back.” 

With a small smile, Jonghyun detached himself from their embrace and left the room, not even bothering with putting on some clothes to retain a certain level of modesty. Taemin held his head, still not comprehending that he was most likely going to have sex with one of his flat-mates, the flat-mate he played computer games with almost every night, the flat-mate who was actually in love with one of his other flat-mates who liked to sleep around with all his other flat-mates as well.

Right, why was Jonghyun in Taemin’s bedroom when he preferred to be in Kibum’s? Wouldn’t it be more logical if Jonghyun searched for Kibum instead? Taemin’s head spun and he sat down on his bed, hands holding onto the edge of the mattress. Jonghyun was back in less than a minute, a black tube finding its way onto Taemin’s desk before Jonghyun settled on top of Taemin once again and pressed him down onto the mattress with his hands. 

“Why are you not with Kibum?” 

The question was out of his mouth before he had thought it over, and Jonghyun halted in his actions to look down at him. 

“He met some fresh meat from France at the party,” was the short answer. Taemin tilted his head slightly when the older one leaned down to take his earlobe between his lips, the light suction that followed conjuring a low gasp from Taemin’s lips. 

“So I’m the second choice?”

A chuckle. 

“You shouldn’t see it like that. You are my first choice from many other options.” 

There were kisses on his neck and his collarbones, teasing bites around his nipples, and playful licks down his stomach, Taemin’s body reacting to every little touch immediately, his skin covered in goosebumps despite the heat that spread beneath his skin. He hadn’t had sex in quite some time and it showed in the way his body responded to the other so eagerly, and it made him wonder whether it would have reacted the same way if another of his flat-mates had come inside his room instead of Jonghyun. 

Maybe? 

Probably.

“Have you ever done anything with a guy before?” Jonghyun asked and sat up to grab the bottle of lube from Taemin’s desk. When Taemin shook his head, Jonghyun smiled at him and clicked the tube open with his thumb, taking the younger one’s hand and smearing a good amount of lube around his fingers. “Thought so,” he added with a smirk as Taemin eyed his hand skeptically, the transparent liquid gliding down his fingers.

“How so?” 

“You haven’t tried to touch my dick yet. It’s okay. We can catch up on that later,” the older one said casually, guiding Taemin’s hand beneath his body until it reached his butt. 

“Ever fingered a girl?” 

“I did.” 

Taemin didn’t need to hear what Jonghyun was going to suggest next. He wasn’t a virgin like so many around him seemed to assume, and apart from that there was porn on the internet. A ton of it. Two of his fingers reached forward until they found the other’s hole and encircled it with slight pressure, heart racing in his chest as he felt the other twitch around him. It was a foreign feeling, touching someone down there, but to his dick it seemed to be all the same as it jerked when he circled his fingers around, touching the little opening. 

“I’m not dumb you know,” Taemin mumbled, watching the other’s reaction with a slight pout. 

“Sorry for ever questioning your experience.” 

There was a small grin playing around Jonghyun’s lips as he pressed against Taemin’s fingers, the tips gradually slipping inside, Taemin looking in awe at the change of expression on the other’s face, lips slightly agape, brows furrowing

“You have such a porn face,” he commented, only realizing after a few seconds that he had spoken his thoughts out loud, causing Jonghyun to snicker.

“A porn face? You are really something, Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun replied and bent down, nipping on Taemin’s bottom lip, and dipping the tip of his tongue between the other’s lips. Taemin’s fingers slid in deeper, the tightness surrounding them making the erection between his legs throb violently. He felt like he was in a daze, his eyes closed, lips moving lazily against Jonghyun’s, his fingers making Jonghyun moan into his mouth. This was definitely a better pastime activity than playing Mortal Kombat X; the graphics were better and so was the game play.

Before he knew what was going on, Jonghyun had bathed him in lube, and Taemin’s fingers grabbed Jonghyun’s hips when he settled down onto him without much foreplay to speak of. The feeling was almost too intense, his thoughts clouded, his erection desperately begging for some movement. Kibum might have the reputation of being someone who knew what he was doing during sex, but Jonghyun seemed to know it as well, his hips rolling in one swift motion, thighs pressing against Taemin’s hips, hands placed on his chest, and his short fingernails lightly scratching over the younger one’s skin. There was a green, yellowish bruise the size of a fist sitting on his hip, probably another souvenir from their basketball match. 

“You feel good,” Jonghyun groaned lowly, and Taemin’s gaze fell to his dick, appearing and disappearing inside of the other again and again, the view being the most pleasurable thing he had seen in a while. He had spent so much time watching porn in the past few months that he felt overwhelmed to see an actual person sitting on top of him and riding him so well, toes curling into the sheets as he tried to think about something ordinary to prevent himself from coming too early. 

“You too,” he managed to utter, not sure what else to say, voice cracking, his hands stroking Jonghyun’s thighs while he watched the other. Taemin tried not to, but seeing Jonghyun move so sensually in his lap, bottom lip stuck between his teeth, eyes glazed, and strands of hair falling into his face, made him think of the differences between having sex with his past girlfriends and Jonghyun. There was an obvious lack of boobs, which Taemin thought quite pitiful, because he loved to play around with and bury his head between them, but he had to admit that the sight of Jonghyun was very appealing, his skin feeling very smooth and taut beneath Taemin’s palms, making him want to continue touching him and explore the lines of muscles visible as he tensed in his lap. 

“It doesn’t bite, you know,” Jonghyun panted when Taemin glanced down at his cock, the sight still a little foreign. “I’m quite sure you know how to handle cocks better than pussies,” he added with a smirk.

Taemin’s tongue ran over his bottom lip in thought. Jonghyun was probably right about that. A woman’s orgasm was still a mystery to him, and whenever he had managed to make his former girlfriends come – which hadn’t happened often, as hard as it was for him to admit – he had considered it mere luck rather than proper technique or knowledge. He grabbed for the lube and squeezed way too much of the liquid into his palm, hesitating for a second before he reached forward and closed his fingers around the other’s half-hard shaft. Jonghyun felt different, girth and length a little less than his own, the tip a soft pinkish color. 

“I have no idea about acupressure – so I’m sorry if this doesn’t stimulate you on a spiritual level,” Taemin said, slightly disdainful, unable to forget Kibum and the hymns of praise that floated around his persona in their apartment and followed him like a nimbus. 

“What an odd thing to say.” 

Jonghyun leaned back then, balancing his body weight on his hands, first thrusting up into Taemin’s hand and then pushing down into his lap again, doing most of the work. The angle was nearly too much for Taemin, his bandaged hand clawing into Jonghyun’s thigh despite the movement being painful, his breath labored. 

“God, that’s good,” he groaned in arousal, ignoring Jonghyun’s previous comment to concentrate on the feeling erupting in his lap instead. 

“Nhnh nnnh.” 

Taemin felt the other’s complete weight in his crotch, pushing him down into the mattress, the pressure inside him building up and the muscles in his abdomen contracting. He tried to jerk the other off as good as possible, but he had never been good at multitasking, his brain not functioning fully under the influence of arousal and alcohol. When he felt his orgasm nearing he grabbed the other by the hips and held him still, taking a moment to calm himself down again, his heart beating frantically in his chest, feeling like it was about to jump out. 

“Too much?” Jonghyun asked, hips playfully rolling in the other’s lap, making Taemin grunt. 

“Can you – lie down on your back?” was all Taemin managed to say in a low, drained voice, and Jonghyun raised one of his nicely shaped, thick eyebrows, a smirk appearing on his lips. 

“Of course,” he commented and stood up, Taemin groaning in frustration when the other’s weight was gone, making him feel empty. Taemin loved to be passive, loved to be taken care of, loved to be pampered, and he even loved it to be used a little during sex, but no matter how much he liked to be ridden, he preferred to cum while being the one on top. It was something about the angle and about looking down at the person beneath him that did the trick for him. Jonghyun lay down on his back, his upper body propped up on his elbows, scabs even visible on his lower arms, legs opening invitingly for him, a challenging look on his face that made Taemin swallow. Feeling magically drawn to his lips, Taemin wordlessly leaned down to cover Jonghyun’s mouth with his, hands wandering along his thighs, feeling the tension of muscles in them. Would he ever be able to look normally at Jonghyun again after having sex with him? 

“Okay?” Taemin breathed between open-mouthed kisses, one hand finding its way to his cock, stroking it lazily while the other kneaded Jonghyun’s left buttock, short sparks of pain shooting through his wrist whenever he moved his fingers. 

“Always.”

“Good,” was his short reply and he looked between their bodies to guide himself to Jonghyun’s entrance, pressing his pelvis against the tightness, both moaning in unison when Taemin entered him, the younger one drowning in the wet heat around him once again. The feeling was amazing. When he was fully settled inside he grabbed Jonghyun’s left leg and lifted it to his shoulder, a stifled moan leaving Jonghyun’s lips when he gave a little push. He held the other’s leg like this for a moment, did some shallow thrusting while spreading small kisses along the other’s calf and then went for the right leg, repeating his actions until both of Jonghyun’s legs were upon his shoulders, his cock automatically slipping deeper, Jonghyun’s back arching in the process. 

He started to move for real then, holding onto Jonghyun’s legs while thrusting inside the other’s body, building up a fast rhythm right from the start, chasing his own orgasm. Beneath him, Jonghyun tossed his head from side to side, panting heavily, fingertips grabbing the white bedsheets lying underneath them. The feeling of being so deep inside the other’s body was incredible. Taemin’s gaze fixed on Jonghyun’s body, marveling at the movement of muscles beneath the skin, at the way it glistened with sweat, dark nipples shrunken and hard and so inviting.

“You look hot,” Taemin commented candidly as he bent down and pushed the other’s stretched out legs almost down to the mattress, a pained sound leaving Jonghyun’s lips.

“Fuck – thighs,” he whined, and Taemin leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth, unable to resist any longer, rolling the hard nub between his lips. 

“Sorry,” he mouthed against it, nibbling at it with his teeth.

Jonghyun buried his nails in Taemin’s buttocks as an answer, making the younger one yelp in surprise, and he quickened his pace further as the other tried to pull him in even deeper with his hands, Jonghyun’s head lolling back and eyes falling shut. Taemin quickly lost control in this position, blending out his surroundings, only concentrating on reaching his orgasm now, Jonghyun’s loud moans sending waves of pleasure through his body with every quick thrust, his balls tightening. He had never slept with someone, who had been so loud in bed, and weirdly enough it turned him on immensely.

He clung to Jonghyun’s body when he came, forehead pressed against the other’s, nails digging into Jonghyun’s shoulders, his wrist screaming in pain, and his pelvis desperately riding out his orgasm, the grip of the other’s hands on his butt intensifying. Taemin never wanted to leave this heat again, pushing his hips against Jonghyun again and again until he was too exhausted to continue moving, his body going limp on top of the older one who slung his arms around him, nose nuzzling his hair. 

“That was good,” Taemin panted after a minute of feeling lost in space, his mind blank and his body feeling hot, exhaustion flowing through his veins. 

“We’re not done yet, Taemin-ah.” Jonghyun’s mouth was close to his ear and he felt warm breath ghosting over his skin and a finger running lightly over his spine, causing him to pull his shoulder blades together. Taemin was too tired to realize what the other was hinting at, only incoherent sounds leaving his lips. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me – I didn’t come yet.” There was audible amusement in Jonghyun’s voice and Taemin instantly opened his eyes, his head shooting up, looking at the other apologetically. 

“I’m sorry – I,” he began to stammer awkwardly and sat up, his slowly softening cock slipping out of the other’s body and eyes glancing at Jonghyun’s crotch. Apparently he even failed to make men come – not just women. “I’m just really bad at multitasking,” Taemin finished and nibbled on his lip while he took off the condom, wrapped it into some tissues, and threw it into the bin next to his desk.

“It’s okay. I would have done the job myself but your choice of position didn’t let me,” Jonghyun explained with a nonchalant shrug, and crawled towards Taemin, leaning forward to press a kiss to his neck. Jonghyun’s kisses felt nice, making him wish to receive more of them.

“I suppose you’re not quite ready to suck me off yet?” Jonghyun presumed, and Taemin felt his ears turn warm. He hadn’t thought about that. A chuckle left Jonghyun’s mouth and a warm hand touched Taemin’s cheek, stroking it softly.

“Damn, you are really cute, Taemin,” he laughed lowly and pulled the younger towards him, tongue slowly licking along his bottom lip and then giving him a kiss. The touch appeared almost sweet and innocent as Jonghyun placed both his hands on Taemin’s cheeks to tug him closer and Taemin lost himself in the feeling. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Jonghyun said when he broke away and turned around, taking Taemin’s pillow and blanket and placing them in a big pile against the headrest of his bed. “Lie against it.” 

Doing as he was told, Taemin lay down against the pile in a half-sitting position, watching the other carefully. Jonghyun followed him only seconds later, pushing Taemin’s legs apart to rest his back against him. He grabbed the lube then, squeezed some of it into his palm, and started stroking himself. Taemin watched him, not quite sure what he was supposed to do now. 

“Ever watched the movie ‘Ghost’?” Jonghyun asked out of nowhere, making Taemin’s forehead crease. When he nodded cautiously, Jonghyun reached out for his good hand and guided it down to his cock. 

“Just imagine that my dick is made of clay,” Jonghyun explained, as if this was the most normal thing in the world to say, and ran his lubricated fingers over Taemin’s and along his erection. Maybe it was the alcohol that made Jonghyun come up with this rather odd association or such analogies fell from his lips naturally, Taemin didn’t know, but he followed Jonghyun’s movements, not daring to laugh, the other’s cock feeling slippery in his hand. It was a strange sensation to have another guy’s dick in his hand, it made him feel somewhat powerful to see the other slowly break beneath him as Taemin stroked him in the way he used when he jerked himself off.

Taemin watched the older one’s chest heave quicker the faster their movements became, his free hand running down Jonghyun’s torso, feeling a little envious of the solidity of his abs. When Jonghyun turned his head to kiss him he obliged immediately, trying to not lose focus again. Jonghyun’s hand left his erection after a while, coming to a rest on Taemin’s thigh instead, fingertips drawing lines and circles on his skin. Taemin broke their kiss when he saw how the muscles in Jonghyun’s abdomen started to contract, his complete concentration devoted to bringing the other to his orgasm. 

“Close –” Jonghyun breathed flatly and pressed his head against Taemin’s shoulder, one of his hands gliding down between his buttocks to play with his stretched hole. The sight was incredibly hot and Taemin had to pull himself together to not get hard once again, his lips nipping at the other’s neck while his eyes were fixed on Jonghyun’s fingers. Strangely enough, the scenery reminded him of hentai flash games in which the player had to stimulate a character and raise their bar of arousal to make them cum, Taemin trying his best to reach the end of Jonghyun’s ‘arousal bar’ so he could press the red blinking button that read ‘Orgasm’.

It only took another few pumps before Taemin finally pushed Jonghyun over the edge, the other’s body shuddering in his arms, cum shooting out at the tip and dribbling down Taemin’s hand, Jonghyun panting loudly, the sound intoxicating.

Taemin hadn’t believed that it could be so arousing to see another man come undone beneath his hand, but it was. It was hot to see Jonghyun so spent and exhausted, his muscles twitching, moans leaving his lovely mouth. It made him wonder if all men looked this hot while coming or if it was only Jonghyun who looked like that after reaching his climax.

They both lay down beneath Taemin’s blanket after they had cleaned up, Taemin’s arm around Jonghyun’s waist, his nose nuzzling the slightly smaller man’s hair. The other smelled incredibly nice, even after having sex.

“Is your wrist okay?” Jonghyun asked after a while, carefully running his fingers over Taemin’s bandaged arm. 

“Yeah, could be worse. I’ll survive.” 

Both of them chuckled.

“This was good – the sex, I mean,” Jonghyun said in a low voice. The room lay in semi-darkness, only illuminated by the moon shining through the window behind them. Taemin hummed in agreement and pulled his head slightly back when he felt the other turn in his arms.

“We need to do something about your multitasking ability, but I think in general we’re compatible,” Taemin heard the other say as his arms pulled the older closer to his chest.

“Compatible?” Taemin grinned.

“Yeah – compatible. Not everyone clicks while having sex, but this was good for a start. I can work with that,” Jonghyun continued to explain, making Taemin chuckle in amusement.

“You sound like a soccer trainer. What are you going to do with me? Train me in the art of sex?”

“The art of sex? I like how that sounds. Yeah, I’d like to do that.” 

Taemin pulled the other just a little closer then until he felt Jonghyun’s chest against his, fingertips running down the older one’s spine. Maybe in the future, they could be spending their time doing something like this more often than playing computer games. He kind of liked that idea. 

“And what if I don’t think we’re compatible?” he teased, hand coming to a halt on Jonghyun’s butt. 

Jonghyun grinned at him mischievously. “Then I think you’re nuts or in denial.” 

Taemin laughed at that. “What if I’m both?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Apartment layout](https://i.ibb.co/dktt3XB/Blueprint.png): Might come in handy for future chapters. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter. ♥
> 
> Just wanted to give a quick heads-up, in case anyone is confused by the 'pop culture' references I always make. This story is set between 2016-2017, so everything I'm referring to is based on that time frame, e.g. there are some Yuri on Ice references in it *lmao* because when I began working on this fic, this anime was all everyone ever talked about. Obviously, it has now been years since it was released. ^^
> 
> Thanks again @hwarang_number for betaing ♥  
> Cricket nony, I hope you like that chapter! ^.^

Taemin lay awake for a long time after Jonghyun left the room to sleep in his own. With one arm crossed behind his head he stared up at the ceiling, still seeing Jonghyun naked and wanting in front of him, the image so vividly ingrained behind his eyelids that his cock twitched at the thought. Until tonight, his brain had been solely focused on living his best life. To him that meant: finding someone to have sex with; to experiment around and have fun with, but he hadn’t given any thought to the consequences that might follow after being intimately involved with one of his flat-mates. Would things be different now? How was he supposed to act around Jonghyun from now on? The same as usual or different? Had Jonghyun been serious about sleeping with him again? If yes – when? Not that Taemin was greedy – only young and curious – but how did people casually go on having sex with each other? Did they just seek each other out whenever they were horny? 

The next time Taemin saw Jonghyun was at noon that same day. He had taken a shower upon waking up and found Jonghyun and Minho in the kitchen when he wanted to eat some breakfast. Feeling a little tense, he walked over to the cupboard and murmured a half-assed “Morning,” as he grabbed some cereal.

“Where did you go last night? You were suddenly gone,” Minho asked candidly, not giving him time to adjust, the words making Taemin freeze on the spot. He concentrated on filling his bowl with choco krispies as he tried to find an answer, unsure if it was okay for him to say that he had slept with Jonghyun. Although everyone in their unit was rather free-spirited and open-minded when it came to talking about their sexual adventures, Taemin wasn’t sure if he wanted to follow their example.

“I went to bed,” he said and tried to sound casual. He wasn’t lying: he _had_ gone to bed, just not alone.

After pouring some milk into the bowl, he sat down next to Jonghyun, his gaze shortly falling on the other man’s lips. Images of these exact lips kissing him and sucking him off popped up before his eyes, causing him to look immediately at Minho instead, who sat on the other side of the table. 

“Pity. You missed a dance battle between some drunk American and Jinki. It was hilarious,” Minho recounted with a bright smile and took a sip from the smoothie in his hands. It was all he ever had for breakfast – disgusting-looking smoothies that he claimed were good for his health.

“How’s your wrist?” 

It was the first thing Jonghyun had said out loud since Taemin had entered the kitchen, and a shiver ran down his spine as he remembered how raw the other’s voice had sounded last night. Taemin turned his wrist experimentally. He had freshly rebandaged it after his shower, but his wrapping skills left a lot to be desired, the blue bandage not sitting as tightly on his arm as it probably should to have any positive influence on the healing process.

“Better. I’m sure we can continue playing Diablo again in about a week,” he responded, carefully testing the waters, wanting to know how Jonghyun would react if he mentioned their game nights. He saw the corners of the other’s lips curl up.

“Can’t wait.”

Jonghyun grinned and took a sip from his black coffee, and Taemin felt tension leave his body, his shoulders relaxing. They were fine then, he hoped. There was nothing unusual about the other’s behavior. Maybe he had worried for no reason. After all, Taemin wasn’t the first flat-mate Jonghyun had slept with. Maybe for the other, it was just another morning with coffee and his flat-mates in the kitchen. 

“Should I bandage your wrist properly? No offense, but you did a very poor job,” Minho pointed out with a raised brow, turning Taemin’s cheeks a soft pink.

“I tried my best. It’s hard doing it with one hand. Don’t judge,” Taemin sulked, making Minho laugh as he got up and came around the table, crouching down next to Taemin’s chair. While Minho carefully unwrapped his wrist, Taemin thought about what Jonghyun had said about Minho trying to get into his pants. Was Minho trying to help him out because he wanted to fuck him or because he was nice? Taemin couldn’t tell. Maybe it was a city dweller’s tactic to lure innocent country boys into their room and seduce them.

“Does it hurt if I hold it like this?” Minho held his arm carefully. Taemin shook his head and watched as the other began to wrap the bandage around his hand again, starting at the pinky side and wrapping it around his palm once while Taemin resumed eating with his free hand.

“You do that often?” Taemin probed. Minho had bandaged up his wrist in no time, and it looked as if it had been treated by a medical professional. 

“Playing sports leads to a lot of injuries,” Minho chuckled. “Is it okay like that? Not too tight? No tingling, no numbness?”

Taemin shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

He watched as Minho went back to his seat and drank some more of his smoothie, wondering whether it was obvious that he and Jonghyun had had sex. Maybe the way they sat next to each other would be a giveaway. But if it had been obvious, he was sure Minho would have pointed it out already. 

“Good guy Choi Minho always saving damsels in distress,” Jonghyun tittered, sounding a little sarcastic as he held his coffee cup with both hands. 

“Bad guy Kim Jonghyun always making unnecessary comments that no one wants to hear,” Minho replied in the sweetest tone Taemin had ever heard him use. Despite having lived with the others for some time now, Taemin still didn’t understand their dynamic, and sometimes he pondered whether they were only fooling around or actually despised each other. It reminded him of Sub-Zero’s and Scorpion’s relationship; the two characters sometimes fighting each other to the death or uniting for the well-being of _earthrealm_ to fight a bigger evil. 

Before the atmosphere could heat up any further, it discharged as Jinki came out of his room, his hair standing on end, t-shirt crumpled, gray boxers giving him a wedgie as he went over to the kitchen counter and yawned loudly. The second he saw Jinki scratch his butt, Taemin remembered kissing him last night, and suddenly felt embarrassed because he hadn’t come back to the lounge after the t-shirt incident, and had left his senior high and dry. If he had gone back he might would have ended up sleeping with Jinki instead of Jonghyun. 

“Someone please stop me the next time I want to drink soju. My head feels like it’s about to explode,” Jinki murmured and took some water out of the fridge, downing almost half a liter in one big gulp.

“Didn’t pull a muscle while break-dancing?” Minho grinned.

Jinki shuffled into the bathroom for a second and came back with painkillers in his hand. “Now that you mention it, my calf _does_ hurt like a bitch,” he reminisced and touched his leg, drowning two pills with some more water. 

“We really missed out on something, huh?” Jonghyun said casually, getting up from his chair to pat Jinki’s shoulder on his way to the sink. 

“Right. You were gone all of a sudden. What were you up to?” Jinki looked at Jonghyun as he washed out the cup and placed it in the drying rack.

“I was in bed,” he answered shortly, and Taemin saw Minho’s forehead crease, as if he was about to solve a difficult math problem.

“Alone?” Minho asked curiously.

Jonghyun scoffed and went over to his room. “A gentleman never tells,” he grinned at last and disappeared into his room, leaving Taemin alone with Minho and Jinki, who both looked at him questioningly. Or maybe they didn’t and he was just imagining things. Either way, he felt uncomfortable and tried to finish his cereal quickly so he could go back to his room. 

“Kibum didn’t come home last night?” Jinki wanted to know, and Taemin was thankful that the spotlight had been taken off him. 

“I don’t think so. He was all hands-on with that French dude last night. Probably went to the international students’ dorm with him,” Minho assumed, gulping down the last bits of his smoothie. 

Jinki sighed. “Lucky bastard, always getting his hands on someone.” He combed a hand through his hair. “I was kind of in the mood last night and he wasn’t there.”

Minho cackled and stood up, patting Jinki’s shoulder empathetically. “He’s a popular guy. Maybe you should put your name on a waiting list.” 

“Or just look for someone else?” Taemin suggested meekly, not sure why everyone was always so eager to sleep with Kibum. What was there about him that made him appear irresistible? Taemin felt like he was missing a certain gene to see his appeal, as if God had missed a code when programming his brain.

“Too exhausting. It’s easy with Kibum. I know what he wants, he knows what I want. It’s no problem, you know. I don’t have the patience to figure out someone’s likes and dislikes right now. Too tiresome,” Jinki listed with slouched shoulders, acting like he was 60 years old and had spent all his life dating different people to come to that conclusion. Maybe that happened after dating around for a while. Maybe people got bored with it and just wanted an easy fix. Something that had proven itself already, and maybe that’s what Kibum had done in Jinki’s eyes – proven himself.

“You have to realize that Jinki has been in the game for a long time already. He has seen so many students move in and out of this dorm unit that it can get a little tiring,” Minho explained.

“You are number 16, Taemin-ah,” Jinki nodded as if to support Minho’s argument. “Some just stay for one semester, some come here after their military service, some stay during their whole university education. After me, Jonghyun’s been here the longest. He came as a freshman, left for his military service, and then asked to be put back into this unit. I’ve seen them come and go, and sometimes you just want to be around someone you are used to, you know. I’d rather fool around with friends than strangers.”

Taemin nodded silently, not wanting to imagine what it would feel like to see his flat-mates moving out and new students moving in, though he had been the new kid not too long ago. After finishing his breakfast, he got up from his chair and washed the dishes halfheartedly in the sink, excusing himself to his room afterward in case Minho attempted to ask him about the previous night. He wasn’t up to talking about it with someone – at least, not yet. 

* * *

“Things are shit here, Taem – like, I so regret not making the cut. Worst failure of my life, really,” Jongin complained as Taemin watched him through the screen of his laptop, slouched in his swivel chair. 

“Just retake the CSAT and apply for university next year. No one gives a shit. It would be so cool if we were roomies,” Taemin replied, pondering which of his current flat-mates he could easily live without. He would definitely keep Jonghyun and Minho – maybe Kibum? He was rarely at home these days anyway. Taemin couldn’t remember the last time they had exchanged more than two sentences. On the other hand, Jonghyun would graduate this year and his room would be empty. He wondered whether Kibum would try to approach Jongin. Would Jongin fit Kibum’s unfathomable criteria for a potential fuck? His friend had always been the most popular guy in class, and Taemin couldn’t imagine it being any different in university. 

“Two bros getting laid by all the hot college girls. I like that idea,” Jongin chuckled, and Taemin’s ears turned pink. If his best friend only knew what went on in their dormitory. Taemin hadn’t seen girls around much, except for the one Minho had brought home a while ago, but she had only popped up in their dorm once and hadn’t returned since. 

“What have you been up to lately?” Jongin asked. “All I’ve been seeing are stupid Instagram stories of you and your flat-mate playing computer games.”

Taemin began to squirm nervously around in his chair. He had to mention it at some point. Jongin had been his best friend since kindergarten, and they knew each other’s most embarrassing secrets. He knew Jongin wouldn’t judge him or treat him any differently but was equally sure that the other would use the opportunity to make one or two very lame jokes only he considered funny.

“Have you seen the clip of us killing all those guys in the Arcane Sanctuary? My minions did all the work,” Taemin told him excitedly, trying to avoid the inevitable and weasel his way out of the situation. 

“Yeah, I did – but you can’t tell me all you do is play computer games and plant your face into the ground while playing basketball? I thought you were looking forward to getting laid,” Jongin chuckled, and Taemin instinctively touched his arm. It was the first day he hadn’t worn a bandage, and his skin felt incredibly sensitive now that his wrist was out in the open again without anything to support it. 

He remembered how he and Jongin had talked about college girls all day after Taemin had received the acceptance letter to attend his dream university in Seoul, Taemin making big plans to attend every party at campus to meet as many people as possible. Who would have thought that the only parties he would attend were the ones in their dormitory building and the only people he would meet were his flat-mates and fellow students from class? His goals might have been a little too ambitious to be accomplishable, especially considering that Taemin had always been rather introverted and lost energy quickly if surrounded by too many people. 

“There is not much going on here. I spend most of my time with my flat-mates. They are a cool bunch, very chill – so it’s fine,” Taemin explained, leg bobbing tensely, his eyes wandering to the clock in the corner of his desktop. He was meeting up with Jonghyun to play games for the first time since the accident – and would be alone with him for the first time since the night they had sex. It was bizarre knowing that they had slept with one another but hadn’t talked about it afterward even once. Sometimes Taemin believed that he might have dreamed it all. 

“Sounds boring.”

“But it’s not,” Taemin defended his rather miserable university life, Jongin looking none too convinced as he leaned back against the wall in his own bedroom. Jongin hadn’t met the required score to be accepted to the university Taemin attended and had, therefore, decided to do a gap year and work part-time in their hometown while studying for the CSAT and get a better score during the next round. At first, Taemin had feared that their relationship might change if he moved to Seoul while Jongin stayed in their dump of a hometown, but luckily it hadn’t – so far at least.

“But the girls – anyone you fancy?” Jongin probed further which resulted in Taemin licking his lips, eyes wandering back to the screen. 7:57 pm. He and Jonghyun had arranged to meet up in the kitchen at 8 pm.

“There are only guys in my courses. I did make out with a girl during a party though,” Taemin said, despite barely remembering the girl’s face. If he happened to pass her on campus he probably wouldn’t even recognize her. 

“Was she hot?”

Taemin shrugged. “I can’t remember.”

Jongin snorted, unimpressed. “I thought you would live your best life for both of us and get laid every weekend. Don’t let me down, man,” Jongin quipped, and Taemin scratched the skin of his thumb, thinking that he should just get it over with. 7:58 pm. 

“I did get laid,” he said eventually, gathering courage, and sat down on his hands, watching Jongin’s eyes widen visibly on the other side of the screen.

"What? Why didn’t you tell me? Talking about computer games instead of banging a girl, Taem, what the fuck?” his best friend cussed, and Taemin swayed from side to side, feeling his heart pound in his chest. 

“Yeah, about the banging a girl part,” Taemin answered after some hesitation, throat getting tight, hand coming up to nervously thread through his hair, feeling like God was judging him from above. Jongin looked at him expectantly and he swallowed. “It – it was one of my flat-mates, actually.” 

7:59 pm. 

“What?” Jongin sounded baffled, dark eyes blinking, looking at him in disbelief. 

Taemin shrugged a little helplessly. “I don’t know how it happened. It just kind of happened.”

There was a moment of silence in which Jongin just stared at him while Taemin wondered what was going on in his mind. 

“Which one?” 

The second these words left Jongin’s mouth, Taemin felt himself relax, knowing that there wouldn’t be anything to worry about; that he could breathe easily again.

“Jonghyun, the one I’m playing computer games with,” he explained, and Jongin’s eyebrows raised into heaven. 

“Fuck,” he swore, Taemin not knowing how to interpret that word. _Fuck_ –as in what the fuck is wrong with you, or _fuck_ – my man is living his life to the fullest? “Who banged whom?”

Taemin’s forehead creased. “Is that important?”

“I don’t know, is it?” came the instant reply.

Taemin feebly shrugged his shoulders again. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either,” Jongin said and they looked at each other in silence. Taemin heard Jonghyun shuffling through the kitchen and desperately hoped that he couldn’t hear the conversation Taemin was having with his best friend from home. 

“Is that weird? Am I weird?” Taemin asked carefully, trying to be quieter now. He wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer to that question but was still relieved when Jongin immediately shook his head.

“I mean, not weirder than you already were, man. I mean, fuck whoever you want.” Jongin adjusted his position on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug it close to his chest. “I mean, the more important question is: was it good?”

Taemin snickered. It was the just the sort of question Jongin would ask. He still remembered how Jongin had pestered him with texts, wanting to know the smallest details after Taemin had lost his V-card back in high school. Taemin had been too embarrassed to tell him that he had shot his load after only ten seconds and that he had lain beneath the covers with his girlfriend afterward in silence, both too humiliated to say anything. Instead of telling the truth, Taemin had fabricated a story that may or may not have involved him fucking his then-girlfriend all night and making her come ten times. Sixteen-year-old Jongin had believed him.

He nodded. “Yeah, it was. Very good, actually.”

“Cool,” Jongin said shortly and then gestured around. “So – was that just for fun or are you –?” 

“No, no, no,” Taemin interrupted him hectically, waving his hands. “Just for fun. No strings attached.” 

Jongin nodded understandingly. “Cool.” 

“Cool.” Taemin nodded as well.

8:04 pm and there was a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” Taemin turned to see Jonghyun’s head pop in as soon as the door opened and dreadfully hoped that the other hadn’t heard any of the preceding conversation. Jonghyun looked first at Taemin and then at the computer screen, automatically bowing his head when he saw Jongin displayed on it.

“Hey, gaming night still stands, right? I mean, if you’re busy we can also –”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be there in a minute. Jongin and I are finished anyway,” Taemin said.

Jongin waved from the screen, saying “Hey,” and Jonghyun returned the gesture, greeting him.

“Jongin from your hometown?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jongin pointed at himself. “Whatever Taemin said about me – it’s not true,” he added, making both Jonghyun and Taemin chuckle. 

“He only said good things though,” Jonghyun grinned.

“Well, then everything is true and probably an understatement. I’m, like, the best thing that ever happened to him. I’m the one brain cell he has,” Jongin claimed.

Taemin threw his head back and looked at Jongin in disgust. “Oh come on, I’m the best thing that has ever happened to _you_ , man.”

Jonghyun laughed at both of them, then waved goodbye to Jongin to go back to the kitchen, leaving Taemin alone with his best friend. They stared at each other for a moment, Jongin’s eyes speaking volumes. _When you fuck again, tell me. Interesting taste in men you have there, man. You definitely banged him._

“Talk to you later,” Taemin ended their conversation and waited for Jongin to say his goodbyes before he closed the video chat program and took his laptop and adapter to the kitchen, where Jonghyun had already placed drinks and snacks on the table for them. 

“Your accent was so strong when you talked to him,” Jonghyun pointed out as Taemin sat down and plugged in his adapter, opening Diablo II on the desktop. 

“I guess that kind of happens naturally when I talk to people from home,” Taemin said sheepishly and connected to Jonghyun’s laptop. They started the game, trying to finish the last two quests of Act II, their characters running around a desert and killing all types of gruesome monsters. 

From time to time Taemin would steal a glance at Jonghyun, waiting for him to say something about the other day, but that moment never came. Jonghyun simply talked to him like usual, making jokes about the looks of Taemin’s necromancer and his poor defensive skills as he shot one fire arrow after another at the monsters surrounding them. 

“We’re never going to kill Duriel,” Taemin whined after three hours, the two of them having successfully collected coins, potions, armor, and magical items on their journey through the _canyon of the magi_ , freeing seven tombs from monsters to level up but having failed to kill the end boss of Act II seven times in a row. 

“Patience is a virtue. Let’s just get a new mercenary and fill up with thawing potions to the brim. You just throw spells at Duriel, I’ll shoot arrows and we let the mercenary be the bait,” Jonghyun suggested, a new strategy, as they filled up with new potions in the city. 

“You want to sacrifice the mercenary?” Taemin asked as he bought new gloves that were resistant against cold attacks. 

“Yes. If we want to progress in the game, that’s the most logical solution. If we’re doing a good job, he’s not even going to die.”

They needed four more attempts to finally kill the end boss of Act II, Taemin falling onto his knees on the floor when Duriel finally exploded into thousand pieces, and they could go on to the next Act after having spent hours on one quest. 

“I can’t remember Duriel ever being so difficult, and we were three against one,” he wailed as he slowly got up from the floor. Jonghyun leaned back in his chair, sipping on some Coke. 

All of their flat-mates had visited them at some point during the evening, Kibum even cooking a meal while Taemin and Jonghyun were absorbed in their game, neither of them caring that their flat-mates only shook their heads in disbelief that they could play a stupid game from the early 2000s for hours. 

“Let’s not think about it anymore. Duriel is dead now,” Jonghyun shrugged and rubbed his eyes. The injury on his chin was still visible when he threw his head back in a stretch, but the bruise had faded, the stitches slowly dissolving. 

“Should we move on to Kurast then?” Taemin asked, finger-combing his hair and taking a sip of juice. When Jonghyun didn’t answer, Taemin looked up, tilting his head when he realized that the other was staring at him without saying a word.

“Mmh?” he tried again, blinking. There was something disarming about Jonghyun’s gaze, something that made Taemin feel very naked.

“No, I think we should maybe do that another time,” Jonghyun finally answered him and straightened up, to which Taemin nodded and saved the game so he could exit it and shut down his laptop.

“Well, next time then. Good game.” Taemin picked up all their garbage and went over to the bin to throw it away. 

“Yah, Taemin.”

Taemin looked over his shoulder at Jonghyun as he was about to close the lid of the bin, holding it in his hand. “Yeah?”

“Can I come over to your room?”

A frown appeared on Taemin’s forehead. For a moment he didn’t understand why Jonghyun would ask that, but then it suddenly clicked and he let the plastic lid fall loudly onto the bin, startling himself in the process. 

“Um – sure,” he said, trying to sound casual, but he felt his dick stirring in his pants at just the prospect of having sex again. At least, assuming he had interpreted the question correctly and Jonghyun intended to have sex. Otherwise, he would be a clown standing in an empty circus ring.

“Good,” Jonghyun said in a monotonous voice and got up from the chair. “I’ll come over then. I’m just going to take a quick shower.” He pointed in the direction of the bathroom, and Taemin’s gaze followed his finger as he wondered whether he should shower as well. Not daring to ask, he just nodded but sniffed himself as soon as Jonghyun had disappeared into his room to put his laptop away. He had showered earlier and hadn’t done much since then, and his clothes were fresh. Therefore, he decided to just grab his laptop and wander back to his room without a shower, palms feeling sweaty as he sat down on his bed and twirled his fingers, not knowing what to do. 

He listened to Jonghyun wandering around, heard the shower run as he waited and finally grabbed his phone to occupy himself with something, scrolling through his Instagram feed, liking a few dumb memes Jongin had sent him via messages, the last one only having been added recently, saying “ _Jack him off, then rub it across his forehead and say – Simbaaa_.” He commented with an eyeroll emoji but couldn’t stop chuckling at the thought of something like that actually happening in real life. 

When the door eventually opened, Taemin was watching a video of a dog jumping into heaps of leaves. His eyes immediately went to the doorway where Jonghyun stood, wearing only boxers and an oversized white tank top; cheeks flushed, hair wet, strands falling into his face. He looked cute and as far as Taemin could tell, Jonghyun was aware of that. Taemin only noticed the lube and the condoms in the other’s hands at second glance, and while reassured that he hadn’t misinterpreted Jonghyun’s question and had to put on a clown’s nose, he was nervous because he didn’t know what exactly was on the other’s mind. The atmosphere had been different the last time they had met in Taemin’s room: both had been a little tipsy, adrenaline rushing through their bodies from dancing at the party, but now they were completely sober, having spent the evening playing a computer game with nothing even remotely sexual about it. While everything had been spontaneous that first time, this seemed deliberate and planned, leaving Taemin feeling like he had missed reading the script beforehand.

“Can I sit down?” Jonghyun pointed at the space on the bed next to Taemin, who was still holding onto his phone. Considering that Jonghyun had cum on said bed already, this question seemed redundant. Nodding silently, Taemin put his phone away, feeling his heart beat up to his throat, not knowing why he was so nervous. 

Casually placing lube and condoms on the desk, Jonghyun settled down on one folded leg while the other dangled from the bed, foot touching the floor. 

“Is your wrist still okay after playing games for a few hours?” 

Jonghyun reached out to take Taemin’s previously injured hand in his, thumb carefully stroking the inside of his wrist. The sensation was almost too much to handle, the skin so sensitive after being wrapped up for over two weeks that the simple contact made his body tingle all over.

“Yeah, I mean I just had to use the mouse. It’s fine. It only starts hurting if I put a lot of pressure on it,” Taemin answered slowly, watching how Jonghyun’s thumb stroked up and down, the movement hypnotizing, his skin burning underneath the simple touch.

“You’re tense.”

That comment made Taemin chuckle uncertainly and he looked up at Jonghyun, cocking his head with a raised eyebrow. 

“Sorry, I’m not used to that whole ‘flat-mate coming over to have sex thing’ yet,” he stated bluntly.

Jonghyun’s thumb halted on his wrist. “Taemin-ah, if you don’t want to have sex, then we don’t have sex.” 

Taemin shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I –” He paused, cheeks feeling warm. “I want to, really. It’s just nerves. The last time,” Taemin took a deep breath and tousled his hair. “The last time the beer just helped me to relax a little. I didn’t think much of it. But now – now it’s kind of all I’m thinking about.” 

“You’re cute,” Jonghyun said with a soft smile, stroking a strand of hair behind Taemin’s ear. They looked at each other for a moment, but when Jonghyun leaned forward to touch Taemin’s mouth with his, everything seemed so easy. The movement of their lips against each other, Jonghyun pressing him down onto the mattress, a knee between his thighs, making Taemin gasp as Jonghyun rubbed it against his crotch. Taemin was still amazed how easily Jonghyun could switch character; from the nerdy flat-mate who whined loudly with a pout on his face whenever a strong monster attacked and almost killed his Amazon to that sensual being who knew exactly what to do to make Taemin pant and squirm and ache for more. 

They got naked rather quickly but not to fuck right away, rather to lie down and face each other, Taemin’s hands finding their way to Jonghyun’s butt while the other’s hand caressed his tummy. Taemin went on a journey as he shifted lower, heart making a little jump and dick twinging between his thighs as his lips closed around a nipple. There was a low moan from deep within Jonghyun’s throat as Taemin sucked and pulled at the nub with his teeth, the sounds only making him harden further. 

“You like nipples, don’t you?” Jonghyun asked with a smirk, hands coming up to comb through Taemin’s hair as Taemin looked up at him, nodding around the nub he didn’t want to let go just yet. 

“I like that,” he voiced. “Most guys usually don’t pay much attention to them.”

Taemin lapped and nursed at the tiny, brownish nub, stroking Jonghyun’s ass before moving his hand around to Jonghyun’s groin. The back of his hand hesitantly glided along Jonghyun’s dick, the skin warm and head a little wet with precum. Remembering how it had made him feel to jerk the other off, he closed one finger after another around the shaft, feeling its weight, the tightening of the skin beneath his palm as Jonghyun grew harder. 

Taemin sucked hickeys into Jonghyun’s chest without being told to stop and slowly jacked him off, wanting to do well, wanting to show that he was able to multitask if he concentrated on it, liking the way Jonghyun pulled lightly at his hair and panted softly, warm breath ghosting over his scalp. It felt like a weird thing to consider, but holding someone’s dick in your hand felt like holding their heart, and some even might have argued that a man’s heart lay in fact between his legs.

“You’re doing well,” Jonghyun breathed lowly, Taemin feeling the other’s pulse in his hand. Taemin wanted to continue but Jonghyun wouldn’t let him, turning Taemin onto his back instead and skidding down his body, leaving a wet trail of promises behind as he breathed open-mouthed kisses onto his skin. Jonghyun didn’t break eye contact once as he grabbed a condom from the desk and rolled it down Taemin’s dick, closing his lips around it to suck him into his mouth with practiced ease, nose nuzzling in his pubic hair as he went all the way down. Taemin’s breath hitched at the sight, at how easily he had taken him in. Jonghyun must have done this quite often in the past to make it look so effortless. 

Tongue like velvet, so soft and smooth, twirling around him, fingers grasping him in a tight circle, Taemin lost himself in the black of Jonghyun’s eyes that pulled him into darkness, letting him drown in the sweetest sensations. He was pressed down into the mattress when he wanted to push up, his hands holding onto Jonghyun’s head, his mind dizzy; so dizzy. Mouth falling open in a silent gasp, his eyes rolled back in his head when Jonghyun sped up. 

“Fuck – I’m –” His grip in Jonghyun’s hair tightened, his dick on fire, toes curling in the sheets, when Jonghyun’s mouth was suddenly gone and the condom pulled off. His orgasm too close to even care, Jonghyun’s hand stroked him quickly, up and down, up and down, limbs jolting as he reached his peak, hips bucking up, mind blank, white sparks appearing in front of his eyes as Jonghyun milked him, cum spurting on his stomach, dribbling down the other’s hand, his whole body contracting as little electric shocks rippled through him. His hands fell lifelessly to either side, his body feeling like the life had been sucked out of it when Jonghyun let go of him and moved to caress his thighs instead of his dick, leaning over to kiss his neck. 

“Good?” Jonghyun’s voice was sweet as honey as he whispered in Taemin’s ear, the tip of his nose running along the shell of the lobe.

Taemin turned his head towards Jonghyun as he nodded. “That was amazing,” he panted, his heart seemingly unable to calm down, his chest heaving with every breath he took. 

A soft smile appeared on Jonghyun’s lips. “Well, I’m glad then,” he said.

Taemin was very aware that Jonghyun knew how good he was at giving head and didn’t need reassurance from someone whose experience was as limited as Taemin’s. Jonghyun sat up to grab a few tissues from the box standing on the desk and gently cleaned Taemin up, his dick still so sensitive that it twitched when Jonghyun patted it dry.

“So, I was wondering…” Jonghyun threw the tissues into the bin before crawling back up to Taemin and placing one hand on his chest. “Do you want to stop now – or do you want to continue?” 

The chuckle leaving Taemin’s mouth sounded tired.

“What a weird question to ask,” he said. He felt like taking a short nap, his arms and legs pleasantly heavy, thoughts wrapped up in cotton. 

“Why is it weird?” Jonghyun cocked an eyebrow, circling Taemin’s left nipple with a fingertip, dipping into it. Taemin’s eyes wandered along the other’s body, noticed the small reddish marks he had placed nicely around Jonghyun’s chest with satisfaction, and went lower, to where the other’s half-hard dick rested against his thigh.

“Well, I was raised to be nice to people who are nice to me. Just give me a minute or two to recover,” Taemin said wearily, earning an amused little smirk.

“I see you’ve got good manners. Truly a rare sight to see these days,” Jonghyun admitted and welcomed Taemin’s lips with a grin as the younger leaned forward to kiss him again.

* * *

Things slowly began to change in the apartment as Taemin began spending his nights having sex with Jonghyun, the two of them developing a routine that consisted of meeting up in the kitchen at 8pm to play computer games until 11:00, only to fall together into one of their beds afterward. It was not striking at first, but bit by bit the atmosphere seemed to have shifted. Taemin hadn’t noticed it, not being the most perceptive person when it came to analyzing other people’s behavior, but Minho had, addressing the issue during a round of basketball on the court near their campus one day during lunch break. It was their first game since the day of the accident.

“You are playing with fire, Tae.”

“Mmh?” Taemin answered breathlessly, trying to find a way around Minho so he could throw the ball into the hoop. It was a hopeless attempt: Minho’s arms blocked him thoroughly, his chest pressing against Taemin’s side. 

“Oh come on, everyone and their mother knows that you and Jonghyun are fucking.” 

Taemin started to laugh at the comment before slipping beneath Minho’s arm and throwing the ball up into the air, missing the hoop by a meter. He swore under his breath as Minho grabbed the ball with a triumphant smile. 

“It’s not like we’re trying to hide it.” Taemin shrugged nonchalantly, raising his arms to block the other’s offensive. He was at a disadvantage as Minho was several centimeters taller than him and way more athletic. 

Taemin had stopped caring what the others might think after the fourth or fifth time he had slept with Jonghyun, too giddy to turn it into a secret no one but them knew. They hadn’t shouted it from the rooftop, but during an incredibly heated session in which they had been louder than usual, Jinki had knocked on the door to Taemin’s room, asking them kindly to keep it down a bit because he wanted to sleep. Considering that Jinki’s room was on the other side of the apartment, it was obvious that everyone must have heard them.

“You do realize that you are the first one – Kibum excluded – he’s fucked more than once since I moved into this dorm, right?” Minho continued, turning his back toward the younger to get around him. 

“Your point?” 

With a little luck, Taemin managed to get his hands on the ball and gave it a push so it fell from Minho’s hands, startling the other for a second. 

“One could get the wrong idea.” Minho hovered close over Taemin as he bent down to dribble the ball as close to the ground as possible. 

“Wrong idea?” Taemin paused, holding onto the ball with both hands, and turned to look Minho directly in the face. 

“Well, one could think you two are a thing, sitting together in the kitchen all day and spending most nights in each other’s beds – and didn’t you also cook together last Monday?” 

Taemin smirked, leaning even closer until the tip of his nose was almost touching Minho’s. 

“Do you keep a record of everything I do? Jealous much?” he probed in a sweet voice, then took two steps forward and jumped up to throw the ball toward the hoop, not missing this time. He did a small victory dance on the spot, moonwalking his way toward Minho before he spun in a circle, proud of himself – David defeating Goliath. 

“Beginner’s luck,” Minho huffed and grabbed the ball to let it bounce against the asphalt. 

“You wish. It’s called skill and exceptional talent,” Taemin retorted, sticking out his tongue, and he sank onto the ground in exhaustion, crossing his legs. He had noticed how his confidence had grown ever since he moved in with the other four guys; he felt himself walk straighter, chest puffed out, taking up more space, voicing his opinion more openly. Maybe living by himself – without the protection of his parents – had made him become more independent. 

“Already tired? One would think your stamina would be better by now.”

Minho sat down next to Taemin, his legs cocked and spread, holding the ball with both hands in-between them. 

"You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Whether Jonghyun and I are a thing?” Taemin tilted his head slightly, watching the other wipe the sweat from his forehead with one arm. Minho didn’t look at him when he nodded, eyes fixed on the ball in his hands. Taemin had slept with Jonghyun so many times over the past few weeks that he had lost count, choosing to enjoy the moment rather than wonder whether it was normal for flat-mates to fuck that often. He still treated it like an once-in-a-lifetime experience, something he could reminisce about when he was an old man sitting in his rocking chair. 

“I like him, but what we’re doing is just for fun. It’s nothing serious. University is all about discovering yourself, right? You said so yourself.” 

“Are you sure he feels the same way about it?” 

“Why wouldn’t he?” 

Taemin sank down on the asphalt and looked up into the cloudless sky. Autumn was about to give way to winter, but the leaves had only recently begun changing their colors, while the temperatures remained unusually warm during the day, not yet requiring Taemin to wear a jacket when he left the dormitory in the morning. Nature didn’t seem to play along well these days with the humans who had tried to trap it into four distinct meteorological seasons.

“Well, I don’t know. A few days ago Kibum wanted to have sex with him, and for the first time since I’ve known these two, Jonghyun turned him down. Kibum was quite pissed when he came to me afterward. Soooo –” Minho paused. “You are either a god in bed or he’s started to take a liking to you.” 

Minho lifted his hand to spin the ball on his forefinger, moving his upper body to keep the ball balanced. Taemin watched him in silence, not quite sure what he should make of the other’s comment. He hadn’t noticed any changes in Jonghyun’s behavior towards him. He still acted the same. They were just two big nerds who enjoyed having sex with each other.

“I’m not a god in bed. I still can’t multitask for shit and Jonghyun thinks I’m really bad at giving head,” Taemin stated bluntly, not seeing a point in pretending to be something he wasn’t, even though it hurt his ego. “I believe I’ve improved, though. The first time I tried it, I accidentally bit him because I got distracted,” he continued and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He needed a haircut soon, his hair having grown longer than he was used to wearing it, so long that some strands continually fell in his face. Minho shook his head with a low laugh and let the ball fall on Taemin’s stomach, causing the younger one to groan in pain and the ball to bounce off onto the asphalt. 

“Well, then it’s most likely the second option. Can’t blame him, though. You are way too cute.”

Taemin pulled a face at that comment, frustrated with constantly being called _cute_. His mother already did that; he didn’t need his flat-mates to do the same. He was almost twenty: a grown-up man, masculine and full of testosterone, someone who wanted to be taken seriously. There was nothing _cute_ about him. 

He grabbed the ball and got up, dribbling to the three-point mark before jumping into the air and throwing the ball, wanting to prove something to Minho and himself. 

He missed the basket.

* * *

“Jonghyun?” 

The older hummed lowly as he lay on top of Taemin’s body, nose running along his neck and fingers playing with his hair. 

“When was the last time you had sex with Kibum?” 

“No idea – a few weeks ago, probably. Why?” 

Jonghyun shifted, making Taemin squirm slightly as he rubbed against his dick, which was still sensitive from coming several minutes ago. 

“I thought you liked having sex with him.”

“I do.”

“But?” 

Jonghyun raised himself a bit and placed his elbows next to Taemin’s sides, looking at him. They were lying in Taemin’s bed, where they spent most of their time together these days. It had become their little haven; their _maison de plaisance_. Their routine of having sex after playing computer games was long discarded, the two instead having sex whenever they felt like it, which was probably more often than might be considered healthy. 

“At the moment I just don’t feel like having sex with him,” he shrugged and leaned down to brush the tip of his nose against Taemin’s. Taemin liked the subtle sensation it left on his skin, a soft smile playing around his lips. Jonghyun was always very sweet in bed, especially after coming.

“Is it because of me?” 

Jonghyun began to chuckle, only stopping when he pressed a light kiss to Taemin’s lips. 

“You are quite full of yourself today, aren’t you?” he said, with a playful peck to Taemin’s nose. “Just because I told you that you used your tongue well today doesn’t mean you’re irresistible now.”

A moan left Taemin’s mouth as Jonghyun moved his lips over to his ear, sucking gently on the lobe and making his body react immediately. Jonghyun had figured out his weak spots way too quickly, making use of them whenever he pleased. 

“I was just wondering. That’s all,” Taemin breathed flatly, hands wandering down Jonghyun’s back and gently grasping his small buttocks. His hands fit perfectly around them. The fingers of his right hand automatically went further, stroking into the other’s cleft, finding the puckered hole and rubbing it in small circles. Jonghyun’s entrance was still wet with the lube they had used, and a small purr left his lips. 

Over the past few weeks, Taemin had become a big fan of playing with this particular part of Jonghyun’s body. He loved feeling the other relax and unwind beneath his fingers, listening to the variation in his voice as he became aroused, and seeing the change in his attitude toward Taemin. There was this little bit-off sound he always made whenever Taemin entered him, be it with fingers, his tongue, or his dick, and the neediness in it always did things to Taemin.

“You are so oversexed, Tae.” Jonghyun’s small snicker quickly turned into that beautiful bit-off sound as Taemin pushed two of his fingers inside and crooked them slightly – one of the many tricks Jonghyun had taught him.

“You were saying?” Taemin grinned mischievously as Jonghyun started to move against his fingers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, brows furrowed. Jonghyun fell apart so easily, enjoying sex with every fiber of his body. It was a sight Taemin couldn’t get enough of – so much better than watching porn.

“I’ve created a monster,” Jonghyun panted with a smirk, searching for Taemin’s mouth to kiss him in the next moment, lips colliding messily. Taemin liked having sex with Jonghyun and felt that the more sex they had, the better it got. There was just a certain chemistry that seemed to make them work nicely together. Jonghyun’s rambling about them being compatible after their first time together hadn’t been just empty words, and maybe – just maybe – Taemin wouldn’t mind if the older one started to see more in this than just some fun between flat-mates. 

* * *

Taemin hadn’t intended on eavesdropping when he sat on his bed Thursday evening, playing flash games on his laptop as a form of procrastination, but the thinness of the walls between their rooms and Kibum’s penetrating voice didn’t conceal a single sound. 

“I’m horny,” he heard Kibum whine from Jonghyun’s bedroom and looked up from his laptop, the little dragon monster he played dying a few seconds later, after being hit by a bomb. 

“Then jerk off,” Jonghyun replied. “You’ve got two healthy hands.” 

Taemin smiled, imagining Jonghyun’s expression. They had taken a break from their usual get -together in the kitchen because Jonghyun needed time to work on an essay and had told Taemin he couldn’t do so when his mouth was filled with dick. 

“Yah! Why are you so cold? We haven’t had sex in – almost five weeks?”

“Oh, you are counting?” 

There was a loud huff and Taemin straightened up, staring at the white wall in the vain hope of using his non-existent X-ray vision to take a look inside Jonghyun’s room. He could imagine it quite clearly: Jonghyun sitting at his desk, hunched over a pile of books, while Kibum stood next to him, wearing the flashy clothes that separated him from the crowd of bleak college students who favored sleep over fashion. 

“Jong, come on – be a good sport. You always enjoyed having sex with me, no?” 

Jonghyun’s bed frame squeaked and Taemin assumed that Kibum had sat down there. For reasons unknown to Taemin, a small knot formed in his stomach, making him feel uncomfortable. It was a feeling he couldn’t identify; a feeling he didn’t know. He hadn’t seen the other two interact in a while, mainly because Jonghyun spent most of his free time with Taemin these days, while Kibum was who-knows-where with who-knows-whom. 

“Kibum, if you want sex so badly, I’m quite sure Minho or Jinki will be up for it with no questions asked.” 

“But I want to have sex with you.”

There was another whine before it went completely quiet. Taemin waited impatiently for any sound coming from the room next to his, heart rate increasing. It wasn’t him Kibum had approached, so why was he so nervous all of a sudden? His throat felt dry and his hands turned sweaty, but Taemin couldn’t understand what his body was trying to tell him.

“Ki.” 

Taemin pricked up his ears, anxiously nibbling on his bottom lip. 

“Mmh? Changed your mind?” 

A slight frown appeared on Taemin’s face and he turned around to look at his window. There was a walkway just outside the windows, to be used as a fire escape in the event of an emergency but where students could also hang out their laundry to dry. It would be so easy to take a glimpse at Jonghyun’s room, but why did he want to check on the other in the first place? It was none of his business what Jonghyun was doing.

Taemin tilted his head in thought, rubbing his forehead. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but his legs had a mind of their own, climbing awkwardly out of the window and crouching down to move as silently as possible to the next room. When he reached the window he peeked inside, eyes widening in an instant. Kibum was sitting naked on Jonghyun’s bed while the other sat at his desk, twirling a pen around his fingers. 

“Kibum, I need to finish my essay,” Jonghyun sighed, straightening his back.

“Oh come on, just something. A quick hand job – or I blow you?” 

When Kibum slid closer, Taemin ducked his head, not wanting to be seen by anyone and have to come up with an awkward excuse for why he was squatting in front of Jonghyun’s window. He already felt insane and didn’t need anyone to tell him that what he was doing was morally wrong. He knew that already.

“Kibum –” 

The next time Taemin took a look inside, Kibum had settled down on Jonghyun’s lap, his lips and tongue playing with the other’s neck. The neck was Jonghyun’s weakness, Taemin knew, and Kibum seemed to be aware of it as well, nipping at the skin while rocking his naked body against him.

There was a tightness in Taemin’s body as he watched his two flat-mates, his heart acting weird because it wasn’t him causing Jonghyun’s eyes to close in pleasure, not his name Jonghyun whispered, and not his hips Jonghyun touched. He decided it was for the best to go back into his room when a low moan fell from Jonghyun’s lips as his hands wandered up to hold Kibum’s sides. 

Taemin couldn’t identify the feeling that spread in his stomach as he climbed back into his room and slid beneath the bedcovers. There was an aching sensation inside of him, but why? He and Jonghyun had sex for fun; they weren’t in a relationship and both of them could do what they wanted – and fuck whoever they wanted. A relationship wasn’t even something he had wanted. Not with his flat-mate; not now, anyway. All he had wanted was to enjoy his youth, his freshman year at university; to dip his toes into adulthood. No one had told him that collecting experience with his flat-mates could be hurtful, or that it would be so confusing.

He let his head fall onto his pillow with an irritated sigh, eyes fixed on the ceiling above him. There was just no way he had unconsciously developed feelings for Jonghyun during the past few weeks. It had just been sex: sex between flat-mates – sex between friends. 

When moans came from Jonghyun’s room just a few minutes later, Taemin put in his earplugs and turned up the volume so every single sound could be drowned out in a sea of guitar riffs, ignoring how awful the thought of Jonghyun sleeping with someone else made him feel. Whatever Minho had told him at the basketball court, whatever he had suspected the other might feel, the sounds coming from inside Jonghyun’s room were proof that he had been wrong about everything. Maybe it wasn’t just Taemin who had a bad knowledge of human nature; maybe Minho had no idea about it either. 

* * *

Taemin stayed in his room the next day, and the day after that. He didn’t join Jonghyun at the kitchen table for some studying like he usually did, and he also declined the offer of watching a movie together and canceled their planned trip to an arcade on Saturday. He thought it might be for the best to avoid the other as long as he wasn’t indifferent to the fact that Jonghyun had slept with Kibum again. He wasn’t even sure why he cared, but he didn’t need the trouble of developing feelings for his ‘it’s just for fun’ flat-mate who couldn’t keep his legs closed for someone who just used him as he pleased. He video-called Jongin a lot, letting his friend ramble for hours about a girl he had met at his part-time job, simply to distract himself from thinking about Jonghyun, hoping that it would help to get his feelings under control. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy to shake the other off, because he lived in the room right next to Taemin’s, which made it almost impossible to ignore him completely. After a week of spending no time with Jonghyun at all, there was a knock on Taemin’s door late one evening and Jonghyun came in shortly after, wearing a dark green cotton shirt that was at least two sizes too big for him and a pair of black boxers.

Taemin was already settled in bed with his laptop on his legs, watching some anime, when Jonghyun came over and sat down on the edge of the mattress. 

“What are you watching?” 

“ _Attack on Titan_. Wanted to refresh my memory before the new season airs,” Taemin answered shortly, turning his eyes back to the screen and hoping that the other would get the hint and leave him alone. He knew he was acting like a child, but he didn’t want to admit that it had hurt when Jonghyun slept with Kibum – especially considering that Taemin had been the one Jonghyun had spent the past few weeks sleeping with. Wasn’t there a flat-mate codex that stated it was only okay to sleep with one flat-mate at a time? Maybe there was, and there was just an exclusion regarding Kibum, somewhere in the fine print he hadn’t read.

“Are you angry with me or something?” 

Jonghyun lay down and rested his head against Taemin’s legs, not looking like he planned on leaving any time soon. The worst thing about it was that a big part of Taemin didn’t want him to. He missed their game nights and the kisses – and everything that usually followed. Taemin hadn’t realized how he had gotten used to having Jonghyun around. Having him close felt like potions of rejuvenation to fill up his bars of health and _mana_ after a long, tedious fight.

“No, I’m not angry,” Taemin said, maybe a little too hurriedly, pausing the anime to look down at the mop of brown hair occupying his legs. Jonghyun looked cute in his oversized shirt, like someone Taemin wanted to protect from all the evil in the world. The thought was startling and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Jonghyun was a few years older than Taemin and definitely didn’t need the protection of a college freshman. 

“In that case – can I join your binge-watching?”

Taemin wanted to reply with a flat-out “No” but felt trapped by the other looking up at him with his big brown eyes, making him notice things about Jonghyun he hadn’t paid attention to before: the little moles, the scars, the stubble of hair above his upper lip. The wound on his chin had healed up nicely, but there was still a pinkish indentation which would eventually fade to a lighter shade and remind Jonghyun of their basketball match forever.

Taemin swallowed visibly before a sigh left his lips and he lifted the corner of his blanket in defeat, bringing a pleased smile to Jonghyun’s lips. Was he really that easy? Didn’t he have a backbone – or the willpower to say ‘No’ at all? Now would still be enough time to turn back to the way they used to be – to the time when they were just flat-mates who played computer games while stuffing unhealthy snacks into their mouths. 

Here he was, sharing a bed with the person he didn’t want to be around, his dick already twinging at the thought of what they could be doing instead of watching anime. Jonghyun seemed to have similar thoughts, because after ten minutes of watching the seventh episode of the first season in silence, he let his hand slide over Taemin’s tummy, caressing it beneath the loose tank top he was wearing. 

“It’s so soft; I like that,” Jonghyun commented and Taemin pulled a face, feeling his cock twitch in his underwear. 

“I like food too much and crunches too little,” he replied and breathed in sharply when Jonghyun’s hand slid down to his boxers, stroking him through the fabric. 

“It looks like someone missed me.” 

Taemin didn’t say anything in reply, only sank deeper into his pillow, cursing himself for being so easily worked up. Just half an hour ago he was confident in the prospect of never having sex with Jonghyun again, and now he was lying in his bed with his flat-mate’s hand between his thighs, wishing for him to continue, wishing for him to just pull his boxers down and suck him off. 

“Who’s your favorite character?” Jonghyun asked casually, as his hand wiggled its way inside Taemin’s boxers to take his dick in a firm grip, making Taemin’s heart leap forward in his chest.

“Levi, of course. He’s cool as fuck.”

Taemin breathed in sharply as Jonghyun’s thumb ran along the head of his cock, his inner resistance melting away with every stroke. 

“Mmhh – I always liked Mikasa, she’s pretty badass,” Jonghyun continued and withdrew his hand again to sit up, leaving Taemin aroused and with nowhere to go. He wanted to ask why the older one had stopped when Jonghyun took his laptop and placed it onto the desk, then leaned over Taemin to reach for the bottom drawer, pulling out the lube he had put there weeks ago and a condom. 

“Are you up for a quickie?” 

He should have said no, but he didn’t, his nails soon scraping along the skin of Jonghyun’s naked thighs as the older one discarded both their boxers and settled on Taemin’s tummy, rubbing against him.

“Leave it on; it looks cute,” Taemin said when Jonghyun started to open his shirt. His hands stopped at the fourth button and he crooked an eyebrow in amusement, then leaned forward, making Taemin’s dick jolt. Taemin’s hands automatically went for the other’s butt when Jonghyun kissed him, fondling the small buttocks and pulling them a little apart to stroke along his crack, surprise showing on his face when he felt the unique texture of lubrication on his fingers. 

“Did you prep yourself?” he whispered against Jonghyun’s mouth, his thumb pressing against the other’s rim to draw a low moan.

“I was horny and played a little around with myself,” Jonghyun explained, letting his body rock against Taemin’s crotch. “But I realized that fucking myself wouldn’t be enough.” 

“And yet again I’m only your second choice,” Taemin sighed theatrically, hands wandering back up to push the loose shirt up Jonghyun’s hips. Why was he so incredibly easy? Should he be thankful that Jonghyun had chosen him over Kibum? That he had come to Taemin’s room in the middle of the night, needy and horny and ready to fuck, instead of Kibum’s? Wouldn’t it have made things easier for Taemin if he had chosen the other’s room?

“Shut up,” Jonghyun huffed with a grin and slid further down, so he was hovering above Taemin’s thighs and could take the younger one’s erection into his hand, jerking it a few times before wrapping it unceremoniously in a red-colored condom. Taemin shouldn’t have been so excited about the prospect of sleeping with the other again, but he was – or at least, certain parts of his body were. He sat up to pull his t-shirt over his head, then helped Jonghyun settle down in his lap, their bodies close and their lips soon finding each other. 

Jonghyun was needy; Taemin could feel it in the way he desperately rocked against him right from the start, leaving him no time to dwell in the feeling of being buried in the other’s lovely heat again. 

“Fuck, slow down,” he brought out breathlessly, feeling himself already getting close. The shirt covering Jonghyun’s torso had slipped from one shoulder, revealing soft skin, the fabric bunching at his wrists. 

“Can’t. Too horny,” was the quick reply and Taemin felt one of Jonghyun’s hands slip between their bodies to touch himself, the other wandering up to Taemin’s neck to pull him in for another kiss.

“I can see that,” Taemin mumbled and hissed when Jonghyun bit down on his bottom lip, tugging at it, grunting. 

The sex turned out to be a quickie indeed, Jonghyun seemingly so overstimulated from his previous playtime with himself that he came with a low groan shortly after Taemin went to bite down on his exposed shoulder, leaving a mark – something he had started to like doing because he knew it would last on Jonghyun’s skin.

“Fuck,” Jonghyun panted and stroked himself dry, pressing his forehead against Taemin’s shoulder, his whole body shaking. He stilled in Taemin’s lap and the younger one took the opportunity to push up against him from beneath, holding the other’s hips in a tight grip to not lose balance. He let himself sink into the mattress to make the job easier for him, and Jonghyun moaned above him in discomfort. 

“Give me just a minute,” Taemin breathed and rolled them over, Jonghyun’s hands resting at his shoulders, the mark Taemin had left on him already a nice shade of pink, with visible imprints of his teeth. Taemin thrust into him again and again, losing himself in that heat, forgetting that he had ever wanted to stop sleeping with Jonghyun. He buried his teeth in Jonghyun’s flesh as he came with a muffled groan and frantically rode out his orgasm, lifting his head to watch the other’s face. Jonghyun looked fatigued; eyes hazy and cheeks flushed. 

Taemin glanced at the clock on his computer screen, exhausted and worn-out, heart fluttering in his chest.

“That wasn’t even three minutes.” 

He rubbed his face, feeling somewhat drained and weirdly used, like a rubber doll from a sex shop, pulled out for some playtime; to satisfy some carnal needs. 

“Good sex doesn’t always have to last all night,” Jonghyun retorted and wrapped his arms and legs around Taemin, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“So we’re having good sex now?” he asked and sat up, hands wandering beneath Jonghyun’s shirt to stroke his sweaty chest. 

Jonghyun looked up, cute and glowing, with tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his eyes narrowed skeptically. “You don’t think so?” 

Had Taemin developed a crush on someone who had feelings for someone else? That couldn’t be. Jonghyun was his friend: his gaming and anime buddy; a nerd who shared his interests. Having feelings for him would only complicate their relationship, and it could make Taemin’s life in the dorm a living hell.

“Jonghyun, what we’re doing here is just for fun, right?” Taemin asked. His hands wandered up and down the other’s thighs, dark hair slipping through his fingers. 

“Well, we’re not doing it out of sadness.”

Taemin watched his dick as he carefully pulled out and held onto the condom. After throwing it into the bin, he stood beside the bed and gazed at Jonghyun sprawled out on the mattress, the green cotton shirt pushed up to his armpits and a sheen of sweat glistening on his abs. He wanted to tell him how pretty he looked but swallowed the words down. 

“So sleeping with other people is perfectly fine?” 

Jonghyun tilted his head with an amused little smirk and coaxed Taemin over to lie down with him. 

“Who do you want to fuck?” 

“It was a rhetorical question,” Taemin replied, feeling a little disappointed as he lay back between Jonghyun’s thighs and pressed his cheek against his chest. He had hoped Jonghyun would show some sign of disapproval, but there had been none. Minho must be suffering from a delusion, seeing things that had never been there. If he hadn’t mentioned the possibility at the basketball court, Taemin probably wouldn’t even have thought about it – ever. 

Never. 

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.

“Fuck whoever you’d like to,” Jonghyun told him. “You’re only a freshman once in your life. Enjoy it.”

Taemin responded with a weak nod, feeling his heart sink.

Minho had been wrong – _so_ wrong. He was even worse at perceiving people’s emotions than Taemin was, while unnecessarily giving Taemin crazy ideas he wasn’t able to shake off anymore.

He should try harder to ignore Jonghyun in the future – should try to forget all about him. Forget him before he started to completely fall for him. It wasn’t too late to turn things around, Taemin was sure of it. It was all just fun and games, a mere crush; an infatuation that was easy to fix.

He just needed something – some _one_ – else to concentrate on, someone who wasn’t in love with Kibum. Someone who had got him into this trouble in the first place. 

* * *

Minho was his goal: tender-hearted, athletic, charismatic, and sometimes over-the-top Choi Minho. Taemin figured that ignoring Jonghyun alone wouldn’t make those thoughts go away: he needed a distraction; a substitute of some sort, someone who would be willing and who he would be interested in. All arrows pointed toward Minho and therefore it had only seemed logical to make his advances the next time they played basketball together, as he was desperate to put his feelings for Jonghyun to rest.

He never considered that such a strategy might make things even worse. 

“Yah, Minho, remember your offer?” Taemin asked while trying to block the other, arms in the air and his chest pressed against Minho’s back.

“Which offer?” Minho frowned and thought for a moment, a knowing grin appearing on his lips. “The helping hand offer?” 

“Yeah, does it still stand?” 

Minho abruptly stopped dribbling the ball and turned to face Taemin, looking down at him.

“Got tired of Jonghyun?” 

“Possibly,” Taemin lied without hesitating and held the other’s unwavering gaze, even as his lips showed a visible smirk. 

“Well,” Minho began, tossing the ball between his hands, “I know Jonghyun likes to get fucked, but did you ever bottom for him?” 

Taemin had – not often, but he had. Jonghyun was different when he topped. Caring, perceptive, making sure Taemin was comfortable and not hurting. He was gentler when he was the one giving, not taking, the sex slower and more intimate. More like vanilla – actual _vanilla_. 

However, Taemin wouldn’t tell Minho about any of that. He considered it better that way. The thought of being the first would probably make things more interesting for the older one.

Taemin shook his head, causing the smile on Minho’s face to become wider. Apparently, men really _were_ all the same. Being the first in something, whatever it might be, always excited and encouraged them in a twisted way. Quite odd, if one thought about it for a minute. Was he like that as well?

“Cool. Would you like to watch a movie or something with me tonight, then?” 

Taemin nodded and smiled up at Minho, feeling somewhat accomplished, because it had been way easier to get on Minho’s good side than he had expected. It would be smooth sailing from here on, he was sure of that. After being with Minho, he would certainly be able to bid farewell to Jonghyun, seeing him as nothing more than a flat-mate and his partner in crime to ban all evil from the world in computer games.

* * *

Jonghyun was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop when Taemin made his way to Minho’s room, freshly showered, his hair still wet, wearing loose sweatpants and a red sweater with the university logo printed on it in big bold letters. He stopped at the kitchen cupboards to grab a bag of chips, hoping Jonghyun wouldn’t pay him any attention, but luck wasn’t on his side, and when he turned around he saw the other looking at him, his head propped up in one hand.

“Hey, want to watch _Yuri on ice_ with me? The new episode came out yesterday,” Jonghyun said. Taemin hesitated and hugged the bag of chips to his chest, refusing to give in again – as badly as he wanted to.

“Sorry, but I’m going to watch _The Conjuring_ with Minho tonight,” Taemin forced himself to say and held up the chips, as if to demonstrate that they really _were_ going to watch a movie – and that “watching a movie” didn’t mean “we are going to have sex.”

A hum left Jonghyun’s lips and he turned back to his laptop, typing something. Taemin took a deep breath, feeling tense.

“Too bad. I guess – have fun, then.”

Taemin crooked one eyebrow, finding this reaction rather peculiar. Maybe Jonghyun knew exactly what “watching a movie” actually meant and Taemin had just made an utter fool out of himself by pretending that this wasn’t the case. 

“Thanks,” Taemin mumbled, feeling uncomfortable. It felt weird to go to the room of one of his flat-mates with the intention of having sex with him when the flat-mate he had been sleeping with for quite some time sat in the kitchen right next door. How did Kibum do it? Was there a character trait he was missing? Some sort of recklessness? A lack of empathy toward his fellow human beings? 

Taemin had to muster up some courage before he shuffled over to Minho’s door and gave it a knock, glancing over at Jonghyun, who didn’t seem to be paying him any attention anymore, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen. There was a part of him that wanted to sit down next to Jonghyun and rest his head on the other’s shoulder, to watch him work on his thesis in silence instead of getting naked with Minho.

Minho was wearing black shorts and one of his many soccer tricots, a smile plastered on his face when he saw Taemin standing in front of his door. Taemin felt his insides twist, unwillingness spreading inside of him. 

“Come on in,” Minho said, and after looking at Jonghyun for one last time, Taemin stepped into Minho’s room and shut the door behind him, trying to concentrate on the task ahead of him. He wanted to treat it like a mission; a quest in a computer game that he had to fulfill to progress to the next level. 

It felt awkward to watch a horror movie on a 17-inch laptop next to Minho on his bed, because all Taemin could think of was when he should make a move on the other and whether Jonghyun would be able to hear them. He was unable to concentrate at all, nervously nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers playing with the sleeves of his sweater. Jonghyun had been the initiator in everything they had ever done, and Taemin was overwhelmed by the responsibility of taking over that role to get what he wanted. 

Minho, on the other hand, seemed to be serenity personified: leaning against the wall with a blanket stuffed behind his back, one leg propped up and the other lazily bent on the mattress, his hand disappearing into the bag of chips now and then, munching on the salty potato snacks.

“Relax. I’m not going to eat you alive.”

Startled, Taemin looked up from the laptop, eyes wandering over to Minho, who smiled at him fondly.

“We take it slow, okay? There is no need for sex tonight if you’ve got cold feet. But please, stop abusing your bottom lip; there’s already blood,” Minho clarified, pointing at Taemin’s lips.

Taemin’s thumb automatically reached up to brush his lip and Minho was right: there was a smear of red on his fingertip. He wanted to tell Minho that he wasn’t nervous at the prospect of having sex but about the journey leading to it. But he didn’t say anything, only licked his lip, tasting iron on his tongue. 

Minho fell silent again and proceeded to watch the movie without further comment, eating some chips and sometimes stretching one of his arms or changing his sitting position. He didn’t make a move on Taemin and Taemin didn’t make a move on him, which left the younger one wondering whether Minho had been the right choice for overcoming the tiny, insignificant crush he had on Jonghyun. Maybe he should have tried to entice Jinki instead. 

Taemin had almost given up on Operation Minho for the night when the other spread out his right arm and waved his fingers at him.

“Come here.”

It was a simple request and Taemin obliged, quickly finding himself huddled in the crook of Minho’s arm as the older one spread a brown wool blanket over them both. Minho smelled fresh and clean as if he had been taken right out of a washing machine, but there was something missing, a tinge of uniqueness, something distinct that made his scent stick out to him. Taemin felt cozy and warm, the comfort making him sleepy – not something that helped his plan. After dozing off several times, he straightened up a little and blinked as he turned his head toward Minho. 

“Tired?” Minho asked.

“A bit,” Taemin answered honestly, hiding a yawn behind his palm, and a soft smile appeared on Minho’s lips. 

“The movie seems to be ending soon. Do you think you can make it till the end?” the older inquired and received a nod and a thumbs-up from Taemin, who blinked a few more times and tried to stay awake.

Taemin had imagined the evening would proceed quite differently, with more touching and less movie-watching, but maybe he had been too greedy. The innocence of their encounter was kind of appealing as well. It was a nice change from his usual bedtime routine, and maybe it would still help to clear his head. Maybe fighting fire with fire wasn’t necessary – maybe he could drown his feelings with water instead. 

When the movie credits rolled over the screen, Taemin immediately sat up and stretched, yawning yet again while Minho got up from the bed, turned on the lights, and stopped the movie.

“I expected it would be more horrifying. It was kind of boring, wasn’t it?” Minho remarked and scratched the back of his neck.

Taemin hummed, craving his bed. He stood up and rubbed his eyes, pulling the hood of his red sweater over his head. “I think I’m going to bed. I’m tired as fuck.” He grabbed the empty bag of chips and moved over to the door. 

“Yah, Taemin, wait for a second,” Minho requested as Taemin reached the door, the handle already in his hand. 

“What is it?” 

“A goodnight kiss.” 

Taemin was startled when Minho’s big hands were on his cheeks all of a sudden, pulling him into a kiss. The touch was so subtle that Taemin needed a moment to register that the other was even kissing him. There was no tongue or teeth; it was just the faintest brush of lips before Minho let go of him, leaving Taemin utterly astonished. 

“Don’t think I’m stupid, Tae.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Taemin’s ear, watching him carefully. “You’ve started to like him, haven’t you?” Minho continued, and Taemin automatically felt his cheeks heat up. “I told you to stop playing with fire before you burn yourself.” 

He leaned down to look at Taemin directly, his large eyes almost intimidating to the younger. “If you want to spend time with me because you want to forget him, I’m fine with that, but be sure of what you want first, okay?” 

Minho’s voice was a whisper and he patted Taemin’s head as he straightened up. Taemin blinked in response, once, twice – not knowing what to say. _What he wanted?_ If he only knew that. He wanted harmony. He wanted things to go back to how they used to be – less complicated and confusing. 

“Just so you know: I’d be a better choice than him, just saying,” Minho said at last with a wink and placed his hand over Taemin’s on the door handle, pressing it down.

“Sleep tight, Taeminnie,” he grinned and Taemin left the room, flabbergasted, staring at the brown door after Minho closed it behind him. Apparently, he was either not very good at playing strategic games – or he was just really easy to see through. 

Jonghyun was still sitting at the kitchen table underlining passages on some printed pages with a yellow highlighter, when Taemin threw the empty chip bag into the bin. 

“What are you still doing here? It’s so late already,” Taemin asked out of curiosity, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, the words ‘ _before you burn yourself’_ echoing through his head. Would Jonghyun be able to burn him? 

“I found a paper that might be relevant for my thesis and wanted to work through it before going to bed,” Jonghyun said without looking up, while Taemin leaned against the counter and took a sip from the bottle in his hands. Taemin watched him making notes and underlining words for a while until Jonghyun looked up at him, their eyes meeting. 

“You didn’t fuck. I’m surprised,” he said, so nonchalantly that Taemin almost choked on his water. 

“What?” Taemin sputtered, wiping the water from his chin with his sleeve. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I’d prefer him over me any day.” 

Jonghyun turned his focus back to his laptop screen and typed something. 

“What are you even talking about?” Taemin asked, honestly confused, and came up to Jonghyun, sitting in the chair next to him, wanting to place his hand on the other’s thigh. 

“He’s tall, athletic, has that model face – so I get it, really,” Jonghyun summed up, almost sounding like he was advertising Minho, which stood in stark contrast to what he had previously said about him.

It took Taemin a moment to realize that Jonghyun might have been a little bit bothered after all. He just expressed it differently than one might have expected. Maybe Taemin going to Minho had chipped at his ego – even if it was just a tiny little scratch. 

“You’re right, he’s disturbingly good-looking and so much nicer than you,” Taemin teased impishly and sank down until his head came to rest on Jonghyun’s legs, the other looking away from his work to glance down at Taemin. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m looking at your petite self,” Taemin grinned, his hands resting on his stomach. 

“Petite?” 

“Yeah, isn’t that what Kibum always calls you when you have sex?” 

It was a bold move, Taemin realized, when he saw Jonghyun raise an eyebrow, his hands pausing on the keyboard. 

“I didn’t know you had a voyeuristic side,” Jonghyun commented frankly, while Taemin wondered what his head was doing in the other’s lap. He had been sleepy, but now he was wide awake again, as if he had overcome his desire for sleep just by looking at Jonghyun. It seemed no matter how much he tried to ignore Jonghyun he was pulled toward him like a magnet, tied to him by an invisible rope. Maybe he should have stayed in Minho’s room after all, just to be safe from his desires.

“Well, you two are so loud, even the best headphones can’t drown out your voices completely.” He tried to sound casual, not wanting to let the other see that the thought of Jonghyun having sex with Kibum was painful to him. 

“Sorry about that.” 

As if it were the most natural thing Jonghyun could do in this situation, his right hand slipped down into Taemin’s sweatpants and palmed his soft dick. The younger spread his legs almost automatically in response, his mouth producing a soft purr. This kind of reaction was against everything he had wanted, but he found himself unable to get up from the chair and leave.

 _Burn, he wants to see me burn_. 

“You should concentrate on your research,” Taemin uttered quietly, feeling himself grow hard beneath Jonghyun’s touch like the weakling he was.

“I am. I never had a problem with multitasking.” Jonghyun dug at him friskily, and when Taemin looked up again he saw the other’s gaze fixed once more on the documents on the table, using his left hand now to underline important passages.

Taemin was fascinated by how calm and organized Jonghyun looked – if one were to ignore the fact that he had one of his hands deep inside Taemin’s pants. Fingers fondled his balls and went further, touching him at the sensitive part that followed, rubbing his fingertips along the skin. Taemin automatically placed the heel of his right foot on the edge of his chair, sliding Jonghyun’s fingers further still, to his sensitive hole. He felt it twitch at the touch and a silent gasp left his lips, his pelvis bucking up against Jonghyun’s hand. 

“You were looking forward to getting fucked tonight, weren’t you?”

The tone in the older one’s voice was so casual that Taemin didn’t know how to react, so he continued to rock his pelvis against Jonghyun’s hand, not even knowing what he wanted right now. 

“According to Kibum, Minho knows how to use his dick quite well. You might have missed out on something big.”

Having said this, Jonghyun abruptly pulled his hand out of Taemin’s pants, a dissatisfied groan leaving Taemin’s lips. 

“You’ve never had sex with him?” Taemin asked, catching Jonghyun’s hand before he could place it back on the table.

“Minho? No. I don’t like to fuck where I eat and sleep. Too much drama. I don’t know how Kibum’s doing it.” 

“But you slept with Kibum,” the younger pointed out and guided Jonghyun’s hand to his mouth, lips nibbling lightly on the back of his hand. 

“Because it’s Kibum.” 

Taemin hummed against Jonghyun’s hand and placed several kisses along the inside of his wrist. He had no idea what he was doing, but something in the back of his mind felt the need to keep touching the other. 

“But you also slept with me.” He pulled slightly at the skin with his teeth. 

“Because you are too cute and pretty to pass on, Taemin-ah.” 

Jonghyun looked down at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Taemin loved the other’s smile; it was cute and contagious and so kissable. 

“Jonghyun?”

“Mmh?” 

Taemin sat up and straightened his back before he leaned forward and placed his chin on the other’s shoulder with a tiny pout. This was against all his resolutions, against everything he had wanted.

“Can you fuck me tonight?” Taemin asked in a whisper, fingernails scratching slightly along the other’s pants.

There was a light chuckle from Jonghyun, who let the highlighter drop and closed the lid of his laptop.

“Am I your second choice tonight?” he probed jokingly.

Taemin bit his bottom lip as his hand stroked the inside of Jonghyun’s thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into it. 

“Maybe.”

Jonghyun scoffed with a smile and then stood up, holding out his hand for Taemin to take. 

“Come on, then.” 

Taemin decided then and there that Operation Minho needed to wait for another day. It couldn’t be so bad to sleep one last time with Jonghyun before going on a sexual hiatus. It was like having one last good meal before a fast. He only had to tell himself that this was just for fun, that the tingling sensation in his stomach whenever Jonghyun smiled at him or kissed him were merely signs of sexual arousal, not signs of falling in love. 

Two minutes after entering Jonghyun’s room, Taemin already lay naked in the other’s bed, [soft jazz music playing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcThrAU9yLk) in the background and the scents of forest and bonfire candles reaching his nostrils. Taemin always found the use of candles a little cheesy, but Jonghyun loved them so he never dared to complain. 

Jonghyun got on his knees next to the bed and grabbed Taemin’s legs to pull his butt closer to the edge, the younger inexplicably thrilled when Jonghyun spread his thighs and pulled his cheeks apart with his fingers. The first time Jonghyun had wanted to eat him out, Taemin had felt incredibly awkward and embarrassed, and he had hidden his face behind both hands, not quite sure if he wanted to experience what was to come, but now things were different. Now he knew how incredible the feeling was, how good Jonghyun’s tongue could make him feel, and it made him wiggle almost impatiently on the mattress, fingers stroking along his stomach, lazily moving over to his cock. 

“Minho is missing out here,” Jonghyun pointed out, and Taemin felt the other’s fingers rub teasingly against his puckered hole before the tip of a tongue was pressed against it. The feeling was pleasant and went right to his dick, quickly making it come to life. Jonghyun was always very dedicated when it came to using his tongue and soon enough Taemin was tossing around, biting his bottom lip and clenching his hands in the bedsheets, his toes curling around the wooden bed frame.

“I could do this all night,” Jonghyun breathed between licks, sucks, and nibbles, stroking Taemin’s thighs and buttocks. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Taemin panted and arched his back as Jonghyun brought his mouth to his erection, sucking him off while his fingers rubbed against his hole. 

“If you continue like this, I’ll come,” he added and shuddered violently, desperately wanting Jonghyun to take him in deeper. It felt different without a condom; more intense, rawer in a way.

“There is no problem with you coming twice – or is there?” Jonghyun asked curiously, pressing several wet kisses along Taemin’s stomach, then he got up to grab lube and condoms from his desk. Taemin didn’t have much time to control his arousal, the other’s mouth soon wrapping around him again, tongue flicking against the underside of his dick, slick fingers circling his entrance before one pushed inside. A second and a third followed soon afterward and Taemin’s mouth fell open, inaudible whimpers leaving his lips. 

He loved the feeling; he loved everything about it. How he could just lie here and enjoy the other’s ministrations, how he could concentrate solely on the pleasure flowing through his body, on the different sensations that built up in his abdomen. One of his hands grabbed Jonghyun’s head and tried to push him further down, eyes locking with his, the view almost too much to bear. 

“Fuck,” he cussed and squirmed, feeling his orgasm build as Jonghyun ran his tongue along the rim of his glans, one hand working the base of Taemin’s cock while the fingers of the other moved in and out of his body, crooking, teasing him, driving him insane.

The mix of suction around his erection and the fullness inside his body made Taemin fall over the edge way too quickly, hips bucking up and fingers clawing into Jonghyun’s hair as he came, head lolling back, eyes closed tightly, and a long groan leaving his lips. His chest heaved and his whole body shivered, mind turning blank for a few seconds. He only came back to his senses, his eyes snapping open, when Jonghyun pulled his fingers out and crawled on top of him.

“Open up,” Jonghyun said in a whisper and leaned down.

Taemin opened his mouth to taste his own cum on his tongue as it dribbled from Jonghyun’s mouth into his. He groaned when Jonghyun kissed him, their tongues pushing the substance around between them, making it foam slightly. He tasted different than Jonghyun – a little more bitter. Taemin blamed his poor diet. 

“Tae, you look so hot like this, all twitchy and so needy,” Jonghyun breathed against his lips and moved his mouth over to his neck, kissing the soft skin, a tingling feeling spreading inside Taemin’s stomach. 

“Too many clothes,” Taemin complained in an exhausted whine as the older one encircled one of his nipples with his tongue and sucked it into his mouth, generously lapping at it. 

He groaned when Jonghyun let go of him to pull his sweatshirt over his head and threw it behind him on the floor. Taemin’s hands automatically wandered up to grab the other’s pecs; a bad habit he couldn’t shake, no matter how many times he slept with Jonghyun. Though the older didn’t seem to mind, placing his hands over Taemin’s with a smirk. 

“It’s an B cup for sure,” he quipped with a wink and pushed his upper arms closer to his body, so the cleft between his pecs got more prominent, making Taemin chuckle lowly. 

“For sure,” he agreed with a grin, groping the other’s muscles a little harsher.

Jonghyun’s hands slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down together with his underwear and his dick springing free. Taemin licked his lips in anticipation, having no reservations toward another man’s dick anymore. He had seen Jonghyun naked too often by now to waste any thoughts on sexual preferences or the like. Taemin went with the flow instead, taking whatever he was given. 

“Move your head over to the pillow,” Jonghyun requested. He stood next to the bed, tearing open a condom and rolling it down his length, then stroking himself with lube while Taemin did as he was told, resting his head on one of Jonghyun’s pillows. The younger one immediately spread his legs when the other joined him on the bed again and skidded closer, sliding his thighs beneath Taemin’s back and pulling him into his lap, lining his dick up, ready to push inside.

A long deep breath left Taemin’s lips as he tried to relax his body, back slightly arched, fingers grabbing the sheets beneath him. The discomfort of the first stretch was always the same, but he knew the feeling would change soon enough. Jonghyun’s fingers glided over Taemin’s thighs and up to his hips once he was inside of him, holding him, thumbs stroking his hipbones. 

“Is this okay?” 

When Taemin nodded in response, a lazy smile graced Jonghyun’s lips and he pulled out a little, thrusting shallowly to get them both used to the feeling. 

“You should bottom for me more often, Tae. You look so sexy,” Jonghyun whispered, panting as he moved his pelvis in longer strokes, going deeper with every push. Taemin didn’t say anything, his body moving in unison with the other’s, faint little moans leaving his mouth, his forehead creased.

Bottoming had been quite the revelation to Taemin, something he wouldn’t have believed he could enjoy as much as he did. It accommodated his preference of being pampered and cared for, for being passive rather than active. 

Taemin was certain that Jonghyun’s choice of position had been calculated when the other’s cock began to brush along his prostate with every stroke, the dull pressure making him feel like he had to urinate after a short while. The first time this had happened he had started to panic, but Jonghyun had assured him that the feeling was normal and that he should trust him and enjoy it – and he had. 

“Good?” Jonghyun asked as Taemin pressed his head deeper into the pillow and bit his lip to not be too loud, hands seeking for Jonghyun’s, which held onto his hips, rubbing circles into his skin.

The sensation building up inside him differed from a normal orgasm. He wasn’t even fully hard but felt like he was going to explode from the inside. Goosebumps formed on his skin and Jonghyun’s hands wandered further up his sides, almost cradling Taemin in his arms, tongue licking a wet trail up his chest. His strokes were so slow and yet so effective, and for a moment Taemin wondered whether he really wanted to give up all of this – if he truly wanted to give up his nightly adventures with Jonghyun. Maybe one day he would get used to the pain in his chest whenever he thought about Jonghyun having sex with other people; maybe it was just a phase and he would get over it eventually. 

There were a few more slow, deep thrusts into his body before Taemin’s fingernails buried themselves in Jonghyun’s skin, his pelvis bucking up, warm milky liquid pouring out of the tip of his dick, his mouth falling open, exhausted little pants erupting from his lips, his mind in turmoil. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his mouth slack, his whole body jerking and pulsating. A prostate orgasm was way more intense than a regular one, and he felt himself tumbling from a mountain-top over and over again, twitching and gasping, as if he were about to pass out from the feeling.

The sensation lasted much longer than usual and Taemin felt exhausted, his body shaking, arms slinging around Jonghyun’s neck with a groan when the other leaned over him and lay down fully between his legs, beginning to push inside Taemin’s body slowly, picking up speed eventually to find release. He bit down into the younger one’s neck when he reached it, his arms trembling, hot breath ghosting over Taemin’s skin. Jonghyun inhaled unevenly and let his forehead sink into the crook of Taemin’s neck, the younger feeling the other’s heartbeat pounding against his chest. 

“How do you do that?” Taemin asked after a while, fingertips tugging lightly at Jonghyun’s hair. 

“What, exactly?” 

Jonghyun’s voice was no more than a mumble and Taemin shivered as the other’s tongue nursed the piece of skin he had bitten into.

“That whole prostate thing. How do you angle it just right and shit? It never works if I try to do it.”

There was a low chuckle and Taemin felt Jonghyun move above him, their bodies feeling uncomfortably sticky. 

“Practice, Taemin-ah. It’s all practice,” was the short answer before Jonghyun pressed a kiss against Taemin’s neck and got up with a sigh, holding onto the condom as he pulled out of him. 

“I need to shower again. I feel so sticky,” Taemin noted and looked at the mess on his stomach with a disgusted expression. 

“Kibum is going to kill us,” Jonghyun pointed out. “He hates it if people use the shower after midnight.” 

“It’s okay. I had a very intense orgasm just now – I can die in peace,” Taemin said nonchalantly, causing Jonghyun to shake his head with a smile.

He couldn’t possibly give up on any of this. There was no way he could give it up, no matter how much it hurt him.

Sex with Jonghyun was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 


	3. Chapter 3

“We should do some group bonding.”

The sentence was given without any further context and Taemin, eating his breakfast in silence, glanced up from the back side of the cereal package he had been reading. Jinki stood at the kitchen counter in a crumpled t-shirt and a pair of yellow boxer shorts with the face of Homer Simpson printed on the crotch and munched loudly on an apple, his hair a complete disaster – a sight Taemin had become so accustomed to by this point that he didn’t even question it. 

“What?” was the only thing Taemin could come up with by way of a response, being only half-awake, as he took another mouthful of cereal with his spoon. 

“As the oldest in this unit, I feel like we should do something together – the five of us. You’ve been living here for quite some time now. It’s almost December and the five of us haven’t even eaten at this table together. I feel like I’ve failed you as your senior.” 

Taemin jumped in disgust as Minho choked and laughed simultaneously, sending drops of his customary smoothie flying in Taemin’s direction to land on the table in front of him. 

“Jinki, believe me, Taemin’s already done enough bonding of his own,” Minho grunted, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while the younger sent him a disapproving look and kicked him beneath the table.

The oldest of the three seemed to ignore Minho’s remark deliberately as he shuffled over to the window and took a look outside. “Maybe bowling or something. Karaoke? Jonghyun and Kibum love karaoke. Taemin, do you like karaoke? We could also go to an arcade? What would you like to do?” 

When Jinki turned to Taemin, the younger blinked, not quite sure what to answer. He had liked that he didn’t have to spend time with both Jonghyun and Kibum in a group, because he didn’t know how to treat the other in Kibum’s presence. Things had gotten weird between them ever since Taemin’s imaginary love triangle had formed. He wasn’t sure if it could even be considered a love triangle when neither Jonghyun nor Kibum were in love with _him_. It was more like a line with Taemin and Kibum on opposite ends and Jonghyun in the middle. 

“We don’t really – I mean, it’s okay if we – I’m fine,” Taemin stammered, kicking Minho again when the other sent him a suspicious smirk. 

“You two fucked again last night, didn’t you?” Minho said. “I thought you were tired?” 

The question hit Taemin like a brick wall and he tried to disregard it by taking another bite of his cereal, but the slight blush that crept onto his face against his will was a dead giveaway. 

“Taemin, this hurts my ego. I thought you were vanilla and needed to be treated accordingly, but apparently I was wrong about that?” 

“This vanilla joke is getting old,” Taemin grumbled into his spoon, grimacing. 

“Is it?”

Amusement was written all over Minho’s face and Taemin wondered, not for the first time, if he had made the right choice in picking the athletic Prince Charming for his sexual neutralization quest. Jinki seemed like a fine specimen as well – quieter, in any case. 

“How about Friday?” Jinki interposed between Minho’s and Taemin’s stare-down and walked back to the kitchen counter to grab his cell phone. 

“Works for me,” Minho answered right away without even needing to check his schedule and took a sip from his smoothie. 

“Taemin?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got time on Friday,” he responded after some hesitation and got up from his chair to place his empty cereal bowl in the sink. He didn’t really feel like spending time with his flat-mates in a group but he didn’t want to act like a spoilsport either, especially when Jinki only had good intentions and wanted to make him feel more at home in their apartment. He appreciated the gesture.

“Nice. Then I’ll send a text in our group chat and see if Kibum and Jonghyun are up for it as well.” There was a warm smile on the older one’s lips as he looked down at his phone and began to type away. 

* * *

Kibum complained of having better things to do on a Friday night than hanging around with his flat-mates for the whole journey from their dormitory to the closest karaoke bar, but Jonghyun finally shut him up by grumbling that no one had forced him to tag along and if he was going to keep acting like a douchebag and intended to spoil the fun for everyone, he could just leave. Kibum had been silent after that, purposefully looking out of the bus window, his arm linked with Jinki, who was sitting next to him and playing a game on his phone. 

Taemin sat in the row behind Kibum and Jinki, staring holes into the back of Kibum’s head, wondering why everyone in their dorm had fallen for his charms when he could be so draining and strenuous to be around. Kibum looked good; some might even say _very_ good – symmetrical features, blemish-free skin, a pretty face and a _fuckable_ body that came with it – but none of that altered the fact that the other could be rather arduous. He tended to make all conversations about himself. If Minho told them about having sprained his ankle while playing soccer, Kibum thought it was a good time to tell everyone how he got the scar on his right eyebrow when he was a kid. It was always like that, but no one but Taemin seemed to mind. The other three listened to Kibum’s stories like little ducklings, gave him input, sweet-talked him, and looked at him as though he were the center of the universe – and maybe he was and Taemin simply failed to realize that. Maybe it wasn’t the sun the earth revolved around but Kibum. 

The karaoke room they rented was spacious and even had a place for dancing. There was a rounded seating area with a bench seat covered in imitation brown leather in the corner and a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, which dipped the semi-lighted room in dabs of color. While Jonghyun immediately grabbed one of the tablets connected to the television set on the wall to look for the first song of the night, Jinki and Kibum picked up the menu and ordered a round of beer and snacks over the intercom. Minho lay down lengthwise along the right side of the corner booth, taking one of the maracas lying on the table to lazily swing them back and forth as Jonghyun kicked off the night with a rather gloomy-sounding ballad from the ‘90s, which Taemin only knew because his mother had sometimes sung it while cleaning the house when he had been a young child.

“Oh my god, _really_? We’re here to have a good time, not to mourn,” Kibum wailed with excessive gestures and snatched the tablet to look for something more uplifting while Taemin pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, feeling kind of lost. He didn’t know what to do or how to act. Group dynamics had always scared him and made him feel uncomfortable, so he decided to sit down next to Minho, because he was someone he was used to – and who wasn’t Jonghyun. Taemin still hadn’t given up the hope that he would manage to quit having sex with the other eventually – no matter how impossible it seemed at the moment. 

When the song ended, Jonghyun was greeted by lukewarm applause and the rattling of maracas as Kibum jumped up to grab the microphone, singing along to a song currently trending on the charts and dancing to it as if he was the star of his own concert. Taemin had to hand it to him in that regard: he knew how to move a crowd. Maybe he worked people the same way he worked his hips: inviting and fairly seductive. 

The alcohol trickled down their throats like water, and after two hours Kibum was dancing on the table with a tambourine in his hand while Jonghyun and Jinki performed one ‘80s Korean trot song after another, moving along to it like two old men, only missing a pair of sparkly sequin suits to complete their performance. Slumped into the leather cushions of the seating area, Taemin laughed vociferously at the sight, his head leaning against Minho’s shoulder and the glass of beer in his right hand pressed to his lips. Minho had a hand on his knee, stroking it now and then, but Taemin didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed the subtle touch the higher his blood alcohol level rose. 

With alcohol in his system, it wasn’t so awkward to hang around with all of his flat-mates. It also made it easier to endure the fact that Jonghyun’s eyes stayed on Kibum for the entire evening and barely spared Taemin a glance. The realization that he was still only the second choice had been hurtful at first, but with every emptied glass of beer, he looked at it from the bright side. Kibum and Jonghyun _did_ look cute together if one edited out their voices while bickering. Furthermore, they had known each other for way longer than Taemin had known Jonghyun and there was a part of him – as small as it was – that didn’t want to drive a wedge between them. He was only nineteen; he was young – there would be many other people in his life. Jonghyun would probably be only one of many. Maybe only one of few. The number didn’t matter; what was important was that Jonghyun wouldn’t be the only person in Taemin’s life. Why should he hold onto someone who had set his eyes on someone else already? Just to have sex with him? 

Taemin’s thoughts all made sense to him. In his drunken state, he was completely fine with Jonghyun sleeping with Kibum, with Jonghyun still being in love with Kibum, with Jonghyun using him as a substitute for Kibum, with Jonghyun seeing nothing more in him than a nerdy playmate who was fun to have sex with. It felt like the alcohol had flipped a switch in his brain, making him look at things in a more carefree fashion. The nagging feeling that had been eating away at his insides for a while had been temporarily drowned by a mix of beer and soju, leaving Taemin afloat on a pool of youthful levity. 

“You know, love is a curious thing,” he noted in a slight slur, leaning up to Minho’s ear so he didn’t need to scream over the sound of the music and his flat-mates’ echoing sing-song harmonies. 

“Are you drunk?” Minho replied with an amused grin and laughed when a dreamy smile appeared on Taemin’s lips. His eyes were hooded, forehead shining, and his cheeks flushed. 

“Maybe.” 

Taemin’s gaze wandered over to Jonghyun as the song ended. “You can fall in love with people you least expect to. Isn’t that funny?” 

There was no reply from Minho, but when Taemin turned back the other was looking at him with an inscrutable gaze. Neither of them said anything, so Taemin occupied himself with drinking more, liking how it dulled his thoughts as he followed the events in front of him, until Minho got up and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. 

“Come. Dance with me,” he urged.

Kibum had stolen the microphone from Jonghyun’s fingers to sing along to _Youth_ by [Troye Sivan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYAghEq5Lfw) and now placed his free hand beneath Jonghyun’s chin to sing directly to him. They both moved their bodies to the rhythm, Jonghyun’s face showing a tiny smile, his hands placed low on Kibum’s hips. Taemin knew that this sight would have hurt him if he wasn’t drunk, but now his mind was numb, registering what was happening without feeling anything. Weirdly enough, at some point he had thought Jonghyun had started to like him, and maybe he did, just not in the way Taemin wished for him to. 

Taemin was reminded of the party at the dormitory weeks ago as Minho pressed himself against his back, chin resting on his shoulder and arms loosely embracing his waist. What if he had stayed in the lounge that night and hadn’t gone up to his room to get changed? Maybe things would be different now. Though it hadn’t been that long since Taemin had moved to Seoul, and it hadn’t been that long since he had started to sleep with Jonghyun, the rollercoaster of emotions he went through every single day made him feel like he had been lusting over Jonghyun for years already.

Taemin lazily mouthed the words he understood, head bobbing to the music blaring through the speakers, his beer glass still in hand and hips swaying along with Minho’s. Taemin leaned back against Minho’s chest as fingers grazed his hips beneath his wide black sweatshirt, his eyes falling shut to blur out everything around him. Minho didn’t even try for a kiss, though Taemin would have let him willingly, but he could feel the other’s breath hovering closely over his neck as fingertips caressed his stomach. He tried to think of nothing at all, concentrating on the low beat as he moved, taking a sip of his cold beer and enjoying the sweet bitterness it left on his tongue. 

Youth was such a fragile construct and Taemin didn’t know when his own would come to an end. 

The evening ended with Taemin watching Kibum and Jonghyun make out on the bus ride home, his temples throbbing in pain. He looked on in fascination as Kibum sat in Jonghyun’s lap, fingers buried in Jonghyun’s hair, their lips practically glued together. Their intimacy was captivating to witness in his drunken state, and more than once he caught himself unconsciously pressing his palm down into his crotch, thinking that he was just watching some porn on his laptop – a non-participating third party watching the others have fun. He didn’t even feel bad for gazing at them, as they were the ones who had decided to go full smooch mode on public transportation, causing some passengers to change seats with uncomfortable looks on their faces. His heart felt emotionless, as though it had decided to intoxicate itself to dull the pain.

It didn’t come as a surprise when Jonghyun led Kibum to his room but somehow Taemin didn’t care, the alcohol having successfully clouded his thoughts for the night. It was a wonderful feeling and Taemin wanted to bathe in it, shuffling toward his room after saying goodnight to the remaining two. 

Yet when slow jazz music reached Taemin’s ears, reminding him of the times Jonghyun had put on that music for them, the throbbing in his head intensified. Having stripped down to his boxers, he stared up at the ceiling as he lay in his bed, hands placed on his belly, mind spinning. He felt dizzy and slightly nauseous, and placed one foot on the floor to regain his balance as he listened to the soft music coming from Jonghyun’s room.

It could have been him, lying in Jonghyun’s bed and listening to jazz. It _should_ have been him kissing the other right now. He wanted to be the one Jonghyun undressed and went down on. 

When there was a knock on his door a few minutes later, Taemin looked up in bewilderment, muttering a simple “Yeah?” at the intruder. 

“Can I come in?” Minho asked as he stood in the door frame, wearing boxer shorts and a white T-shirt, his face looking like it had been freshly washed and treated with cream. 

“Sure,” the younger answered simply, not bothering to sit up or turn on his bedside lamp. He didn’t ask what Minho wanted and also didn’t say anything when Minho stepped over him on the bed and squeezed himself between Taemin and the wall. 

They lay next to each other in silence, and Taemin cocked his head to the side to see Minho’s moonlit face turned toward the ceiling. “I’m too drunk for sex, if that’s what you’re here for,” Taemin stated frankly. There couldn’t be any other reason for his flat-mate to be in his room right now, and as hard as it was for Taemin to admit, he didn’t want to have sex with anyone but Jonghyun. It was a truth that was hard to accept, considering that Taemin had come to Seoul with the intention of “exploring the city” – not dwelling in any one district for too long. 

“I’m not here for sex. I thought you needed someone to distract you from those two having sex pretty soon,” was the answer he received. Minho didn’t even bother looking at Taemin, instead keeping his eyes on the ceiling. 

“What?” Taemin frowned, suddenly feeling thirsty. 

“You like him, but he’s going to have sex with someone else. That must suck and that’s why I’m here.” 

Taemin narrowed his eyes and slowly tried to sit up, his head spinning. 

“You are weird,” he commented and reached for the water bottle on his desk, taking big gulps, some of it running down his chin. He wiped the drops away briskly.

“You call it weird; I call it caring.” 

“Good guy Choi Minho. Isn’t it exhausting to always be _this_ nice to everyone?” Taemin sank back on the mattress, one hand on his stomach and the other arm crossed behind his head. His elbow nudged against his desk in this position, their dormitory beds not constructed to let two people rest comfortably in them. 

“Are you ‘everyone’? I’m nice to you – not everyone,” the older responded flatly and turned onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. 

“Why?” 

“Because I like you, that’s why,” he clarified, as though it was the most normal thing to say to his flat-mate in the middle of the night. “I don’t want you to be unhappy because of some lousy wannabe poet who doesn’t even realize that you’re head over heels for him.” 

Taemin followed Minho’s example and turned onto his side, facing him, pulling his pillow closer to tuck it under his head. It was weird lying in bed with someone who wasn’t Jonghyun. It had become so natural for Jonghyun to be in his bed that Taemin occasionally found brown hairs on his pillow. His pillow had even started to smell of the cologne Jonghyun wore every day, a comforting scent that reminded Taemin of the other even when he wasn’t there. 

“You like me?” 

“You haven’t noticed? Hey, I even let you win in basketball.” 

“You _let_ me win? I’m just better than you,” Taemin retorted immediately, pressing his index finger against Minho’s chest, poking him. 

“You wish!” 

Minho mimicked the action with feigned irritation, first nudging Taemin with his fingers then placing them flat against his chest. 

“I wonder what I have to do to make you like me instead of him,” he added in a more serious tone.

Taemin snorted in response, his brows furrowing. His mind was too clouded to form coherent thoughts, let alone process his flat-mates confession properly, his mind registering the words but not the feelings behind them. 

“Shut up, you are drunk,” was all he replied, brushing Minho’s fingers off his chest to turn away from him.

Taemin didn’t need drama like this. Maybe Jonghyun had been right and he shouldn’t fuck where he slept and ate. It only caused confusion – and he didn’t want to involve even more people in this Greek tragedy. It was enough that he had to suffer through all of it. He didn’t want to give Minho hope for something that would never happen. 

Not in this lifetime or any other. 

When Minho’s big hand reached around his waist and pulled him closer, Taemin flinched, but the sudden source of warmth slowly soothed the tension in his body and he found himself resting closely against Minho’s chest, too tired to push him away. It felt nice to be held, even if he preferred a different set of hands embracing him. 

“I’m serious,” Taemin heard the other mumble into his scalp, making the little hairs on his neck stand at attention. A slight shiver ran down his spine and a weird sensation gathered in his lower back. Before he could reply, a dull thumping echoed from the wall and his wordscaught in his throat, his chest uncomfortably tight, as he heard Jonghyun moan Kibum’s name.

* * *

_There is a dark, tortured soul who was trapped within this forsaken realm long ago. He was called Izual by mortal men, and in ages past he was my most trusted Lieutenant. Yet, against my wishes he led an ill-fated assault upon the fiery Hellforge, itself. Despite his valor and strength, Izual was captured by the Prime Evils and twisted by their perverse power. They forced him to betray his own kind and give up Heaven's most guarded secrets. He became a corrupt shadow of his former self - a fallen angel trusted neither by Heaven nor Hell._

A wise, deep voice reached Taemin’s and Jonghyun’s ears as they sat at the kitchen table with their laptops, gazes fixed on the screens, the rustling of a plastic bag audible as Jonghyun fished out a sour gummy worm and stuffed it into his mouth. 

“Finally Act IV, huh?” Jonghyun commented with a sigh as they listened to the angel Tyrael, who gave them instructions on their first quest inside the _Pandemonium Fortress,_ on the outskirts of Hell. They had been playing for two hours already, not talking much during their journey, too busy with killing monsters and finally the gruesome-looking Mephisto, the end boss of Act III. The cutscene between Acts had been quite refreshing, a short break from staring at the screen for too long, which led Taemin to stretch with a loud sigh, his joints cracking. 

Though the silence hadn’t been unusual or forced – they had been preoccupied with saving the world from the claws of hell – Taemin had wanted to talk with Jonghyun; he just hadn’t known how to start a proper conversation, which sounded ridiculous, considering how intimate they already had been. But the thing was, they were only intimate physically, not emotionally, their conversations usually a mix of childish banter, nerdy exchanges none of their flat-mates could follow, and basic small-talk. _How are your studies, what did you eat for lunch, when do you have to get up tomorrow?_

Taemin felt there was so much he didn’t know about Jonghyun. He had only scratched at the very tip of the iceberg, not knowing how far it reached into the water. A part of him felt bad for having fallen in love with mere superficialities, making him sometimes question whether his feelings were even genuine, and not just his dick talking in a state of delirium. 

As they entered the _Outer Steppes_ , the first area of Hell, and Taemin’s Necromancer ran alongside Jonghyun’s Amazon in the open, bleak-looking landscape, Taemin nibbled on his bottom lip and glanced over his laptop screen at the other from time to time, knee bobbing nervously underneath the table. 

His character fired spells at a Megademon while back-to-back with Jonghyun’s Amazon, who fired ice arrows at a group of Finger Mage. The mercenary they had hired in the previous town didn’t survive the monster attack and quickly fell to the ground, blood oozing from his chest. 

Taemin finally dared to ask a question. “How are your mom and sister?”

Their eyes met briefly when Jonghyun looked up. “They’re doing well; thanks for asking.” He smiled. “My sister switched jobs recently, so she’s in a state of being constantly overwhelmed by everything right now. But she’s happy at her new workplace, so that’s good,” he explained casually as he looked back at the screen, flinching in his seat as his Amazon was hit critically by a monster, and Taemin heard the bubbling sound of potions Jonghyun used to restore the health of his character. 

Taemin nodded, a soft-sounding ‘hm’ falling from his lips, and clicked away on the mouse in his right hand to help kill the remaining monster that surrounded Jonghyun’s Amazon. 

“Can I ask you a more personal question?” Taemin continued when the last monster fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Sure.”

Licking his lips, Taemin’s character picked up the coins lying next to the monsters while Jonghyun’s grabbed the stones and armory, which they could sell in the town. “You never talk about your dad. Is he – ”

“Dead?” Jonghyun glanced at him. “To me he is dead. But if you mean physically, then no – that man is still pretty much alive.”

Taemin already regretted having asked about Jonghyun’s situation as the other’s expression darkened. Maybe he should have asked something else instead. Wasn’t there a list of questions that people could ask to get to know someone better? A question about a father that had never been mentioned before probably wasn’t on it.

“I’m sorry – I didn’t want to pry. I just wondered because you never – you know. Sorry,” Taemin stammered sheepishly, feeling like he had stepped in a big pile of poop and was stuck for several hours on a bus filled to the brim with people.

“It’s okay. No need to be sorry, Taemin-ah. That man is just not someone I like to talk about, that’s all. He’s not the type that would get nominated for a ‘Best Dad of the Year’ award, you know.” 

Jonghyun sounded bitter, like he probably had way more to say about the matter but had decided that the person in question wasn’t worth his time. 

“I believe that we’re the embodiment of our parents for the most part – whether we want to embrace it or deny it. The first few years of a child’s life are so defining, and while I believe that I inherited all the positive characteristics from my mom, I think I got all the negative ones from him,” Jonghyun clarified thoughtfully as his Amazon ran up to a group of Vile Mothers, four-legged creatures with razor-sharp claws. 

“I don’t think you have any negative characteristics,” Taemin said without thinking, his cheeks turning warm when he heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the table. 

“You just haven’t seen them yet, Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun said. “And I hope you won’t ever witness them.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Taemin stared at his laptop screen and tried to stay focused as more and more Vile Mothers began to surround them. They were nasty beasts that had the ability to spawn offspring and therefore needed to be killed as quickly as possible. He intended to revive them after slaughtering them, so his Necromancer could use them in their fight. 

“Taemin-ah, do you think you take more after your mother or your father?”

Taemin grimaced, indecisive. “Neither.” 

Jonghyun laughed lightly and cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to throw my theory overboard with that comment?” he asked, only half in earnest, and straightened up as they killed the last Vile Mother and her children. 

“Maybe I’m the exception to the rule,” Taemin teased, trying to bring a little cheerfulness back to their table, preferring to see Jonghyun smile instead of looking somber. 

“That might be possible.” 

Jonghyun smiled at him before shifting his focus back to the game, and Taemin tried to follow his lead. 

They played past midnight, and tiny knots formed in Taemin’s stomach as he turned off his laptop, wondering whether the two of them would continue their game night naked in Taemin’s bed. He waited for Jonghyun to say something; _anything_ – to invite himself into Taemin’s room, to briefly run his hand over his backside, to whisper lewd words in his ear – but nothing of the sort happened. While Taemin collected their garbage from the table and threw it into the bin, Jonghyun washed their glasses in the sink, the younger one taking his sweet time placing the lid back on the bin in the hope that Jonghyun would eventually come around.

But to Taemin’s misfortune – he didn’t. 

“’Night, Taemin-ah. Good game.” Jonghyun said at last and came up to Taemin to ruffle his hair affectionately, nothing seductive about that simple gesture. Taemin wondered if he had done something wrong or if Jonghyun had already become bored with him and had realized that Kibum was a better lay after all when they came home after their karaoke night. 

“Good night,” Taemin replied with a lump in his throat, his chest feeling constricted as Jonghyun picked up his laptop and sent him one last smile before he left for his room. Being rejected like this felt like a slap in the face, though Taemin wasn’t sure if he could even speak of rejection when he hadn’t made any advances himself. If he had come up to Jonghyun and had tried to kiss him, only for the other to pull away and say ‘No’, then this would be the dictionary description of the word ‘rejection’. But Taemin hadn’t done anything tonight, hadn’t shown off his colorful splendor of plumage to entice Jonghyun. 

Pulling at his hair, Taemin sighed in frustration and rubbed his face with his hands, deciding that it was better to go to sleep than to dwell on something that couldn’t be changed. When he passed Jonghyun’s door with his laptop in his hands, he stopped for a moment and wondered if he should just walk inside and play the seducer, like Jonghyun had done so many times in the past, but he simply couldn’t. Just the thought of taking an active step to initiate physical contact made him feel flustered. Frustrated with himself, he walked back to his room and fell into his bed soon afterward, unable to fall asleep because his brain didn’t want to shut up, instead letting him overthink his whole life for the entirety of the night.

* * *

Taemin sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen, with one leg propped up, his oversized blue knitted sweater pulled over his knee, and his head hovering over a bowl of cereal, slurping up the sweetened milk at the bottom. Minho sat on the opposite side of the table like usual, drinking another disgusting-looking vegetable smoothie – like usual – while checking his phone. They only looked up from their tasks when they heard the shuffling of slippers over the floor, and Taemin almost choked on his food as Jonghyun walked over to them in nothing but a blue towel tied around his tiny waist, his hair wet and disheveled.

What a sight to witness in the morning. A sight Taemin certainly didn’t want to witness in the morning – at least, not for the time being. 

“Morning,” Jonghyun mumbled as he walked over to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. Taemin struggled to avert his eyes and only managed it when Minho threw a tiny crumpled piece of paper at his head.

He wondered why Minho didn’t have the same effect on him as Jonghyun did. Minho could jump around him during a game of basketball or soccer in nothing but black shorts and Taemin would be totally unaffected by it, but whenever Jonghyun exposed any part of his body, be it only a glimpse of a collarbone, he felt himself getting hard. 

Choi Minho was an incredibly attractive guy, and objectively speaking, Taemin was convinced that the majority of people would choose Minho over Jonghyun any day. But it seemed Taemin wasn’t like the majority of people, and his cock didn’t give a shit about generally accepted beauty standards.

There was just something so alluring about Jonghyun that Minho simply didn’t possess. Minho was always nice and gentle, he joked around and was fun to be with, but he was polished without any edges; a crisp white bed sheet on a drying rack standing in the sun. On the other hand, Jonghyun embodied everything Taemin craved with his mood swings and his sometimes-indifferent behavior. Was Jonghyun only more interesting because he couldn’t have him – at least, not in a way he wanted? Was it human nature striking again, making him want the one thing he couldn’t have? 

They hadn’t slept together for over a week now, but it wasn’t like Jonghyun was acting in any way different toward him. He still smiled at Taemin, still tousled his hair, and still talked with him about games and anime, yet he hadn’t shown up in his room again or suggested anything sexual. Jonghyun had always been the initiator and Taemin had only ever followed along, and he felt kind of lost for being set aside so easily, like a toy a child had grown bored of. 

Weirdly enough, Taemin had noticed that Jonghyun didn’t seem to be sleeping with Kibum either: no weird noises or thumping sounds came from either of their rooms. It was odd to have the other living right next to him and yet feeling like he was miles away. 

“Why don’t you put on some clothes?” 

Minho’s comment pulled Taemin back to reality and he looked over at Jonghyun, who wore a slightly disgruntled look. 

“Why? Envious of this body?” Jonghyun teased, slurping his coffee with a raised eyebrow. 

“I see a more impressive one every time I look into a mirror,” Minho countered.

A low laugh escaped Jonghyun’s lips as he shuffled over and grabbed the hem of the other’s t-shirt to pull it up. “Liar,” he said in a monotonous voice.

Taemin felt as if he were watching two peacocks during rutting season again. Jonghyun and Minho acted like idiots whenever they were around each other, having nothing in common with the guys that Taemin liked to spend his time with individually. They reminded him of Neanderthals who were about to smash bats at each other’s heads. It was ridiculous to witness. 

Minho gawked at Jonghyun, but then looked over at Taemin. “Tae, whose upper body do you think looks better?” he asked with a serious expression, and Taemin blinked as two pairs of eyes observed him expectantly. He glanced over the rim of his bowl, grabbing it tighter with his fingers, wishing to be buried alive. 

“Mine, of course,” he mumbled after an uncomfortable silence, causing Jonghyun to laugh warmly. 

“Of course. He’s right – he’s got the cutest little tummy I’ve ever seen.” With that, the older came over to ruffle Taemin’s hair, then went to his room without another word, leaving Taemin behind with many unanswered questions. 

“We all know I’ve got the best body here. Jonghyun has been slacking off ever since he stopped going to the gym.” 

It was such a random remark that Taemin looked up, perplexed, tilting his head when he saw Minho checking out his abs, t-shirt pulled up to his armpits. Taemin merely hummed in response, wanting neither to disagree nor agree with the other’s statement.

Having finished his breakfast, he got up from the chair and walked over to the sink, washing out the bowl with a sponge that had seen better days. It probably hadn’t been swapped out once since he moved in. 

“Did you hear that Kibum already found a new playmate? I wonder when Jonghyun’s mood will drop down to zero again.” 

“Who is it this time?” Taemin asked bitterly. “Some hot French dude? Or maybe Italian this time?” 

Even after living with Kibum for some time now, he still didn’t understand his charm, nor why people fell for him by the dozen. 

“It’s actually a woman. Brazilian, if I remember correctly.” 

Taemin arched an eyebrow, whirling around, not quite understanding. “I thought he was gay.” 

Minho immediately held up a hand and shook his head, getting up from his chair to join Taemin at the kitchen counter. “There is no point in trying to label Kibum. He just likes sex with whoever. I made the same mistake and put him into a box when I moved into this dorm and saw a guy coming out of his room,” the older explained while rinsing out his glass.

Even after several months, Taemin’s flat-mates were still full of surprises. 

“I see.” 

“Anyway, I’m quite sure Jonghyun will turn up on your doorstep in the next few days for some distraction. You are still up for that?” 

Even though Minho tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, Taemin could see in his face that he wasn’t. Taemin shrugged his shoulders and placed his cereal bowl back in the cupboard, drying his hands on his boxer shorts. He was sure if Jonghyun asked him for sex, he wouldn’t be able to turn him down. So it didn’t matter whether or not he still wanted to have sex with him, since his libido was screaming the other’s name nonstop without taking a minute of rest.

“You know you shouldn’t, Tae – for your own sake. Or if you can’t control your dick around him, then at least tell him that you have a crush on him – then it’s out there and you can see how things go from there.” 

Telling Jonghyun that he had a crush on him? What would that change? Jonghyun was still in love with Kibum – nothing would change. Taemin would only make a fool out of himself. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because everyone deserves love and happiness,” Minho shrugged, putting his glass into the drying rack next to the sink. “If he turns you down, you can move on – and if –” he halted, face turning sour, teeth biting down on his bottom lip. “Well, if he likes you then – this is a good thing, I guess.” Minho’s face drew into a forced smile before he turned around and walked toward his room.

Maybe Minho only wanted to see him fail to see his own chances rise? Taemin wasn’t sure about the other’s real intentions. It seemed like there were two sides to Minho, but Taemin wasn’t sure which one was for show and which was the real one. He seemed like his own version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – living his days by acting like a prince in shining armor, only waiting for a darker side to be revealed after nightfall. 

“Either way – just tell him. It’s the best for everyone involved,” was the last thing Minho said before he opened the door to his room and vanished, leaving Taemin behind with a dumbfounded expression on his face. 

When had things become so complicated? 

* * *

As Minho had predicted, Jonghyun’s mood dropped down to zero a week later, when Kibum brought the Brazilian girl home to their shared apartment for the first time and cooked for her while Jonghyun and Taemin sat at the dinner table, working on projects for their classes. Taemin watched the older one from the corner of his eye while he did some research for an upcoming presentation. Jonghyun’s eyes were glued to the back of Kibum’s head, his lips pressed together so forcefully that they had turned a light pink. He had never seen the other so immensely irritated by something, as if he was about to rip out someone’s throat, like a fatality attack in Mortal Kombat. Taemin just wasn’t sure whether it would be Kibum’s throat or the girl’s. 

“Maybe we should leave them alone?” Taemin suggested in a whisper as Kibum fed the girl some noodles, and the look in Jonghyun’s eyes darkened. 

“Why? This apartment is shared by five people – if he wants to fuck yet another person, then he can go some other place. Why should I accommodate his sexcapades?” 

Jonghyun spoke loud enough for the couple at the kitchen counter to hear, and Taemin nibbled on his bottom lip when the girl pulled a displeased face. He wasn’t sure how well she spoke Korean, but sometimes the tone of a voice was enough to get the message across.

He pitied her for being brought into this mess. She probably hadn’t thought about some horndog guarding Kibum at his apartment when she had hooked up with him for the first time. 

“Jonghyun, just shut the fuck up. You are incredibly annoying.” The calmness in Kibum’s voice was threatening and Taemin could see the vein in Jonghyun’s neck protruding as he clenched his jaw.

“ _I_ am annoying?” he asked in disbelief, eyes narrowing. 

“Yes, _you_. You are _fucking_ annoying!” Kibum repeated as he stirred the pasta sauce, ignoring Jonghyun as his hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white. Taemin wondered if he might have to jump dramatically between them, like people did in movies, if Jonghyun happened to stand up and slap the other across the face. 

When Kibum told the girl a joke, his hand running down her back to come to rest on her butt, something inside Jonghyun seemed to snap because he stood up forcefully and said “You know what, fuck you!” before storming out of their apartment, throwing the front door shut behind him.

Taemin flinched in surprise. He had never seen the other like that, so full of hurt and rage. There were a lot of sides to Jonghyun, some darker than others, but an angry one hadn’t been on the list so far. To Taemin, Jonghyun had always appeared to be someone who fought his battles internally, never expressing his anger and bottling up his feelings instead. It was probably not the best coping mechanism, if it could end with Jonghyun storming out of the apartment after his feelings were hurt. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Taemin heard the girl ask, accent strong but kind of cute-sounding. 

“He’s just a drama queen, don’t think about it. Can you try this? Do you think it needs more garlic?”

For some reason, Kibum’s indifference made Taemin fume. He was quite sure that Kibum was aware of Jonghyun’s feelings and yet he acted like a complete douche, thinking about no one but himself. How could he be so cruel to someone as sensitive as Jonghyun? It was a mystery to Taemin. If he had Jonghyun’s love, he would treat it like his most valuable possession. 

“I can’t believe what a fucking ass you are.” 

The words fell from Taemin’s lips before he had time to think them through, and when Kibum sent him a bewildered look, he swallowed and closed the book in front of him, then stood up and walked over to the door, quickly slipping into his sneakers to follow the older one outside. Maybe Jonghyun needed someone to talk to; maybe Taemin could be there for him. 

He found Jonghyun outside their building, sitting on the stairs in front of the entrance, watching the moon. 

“Hey.” Taemin approached him carefully, pushing his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. Jonghyun only glanced at him briefly before gazing back at the night sky, hands playing with a half-rotted leaf which he had probably picked up from the ground.

“Can I sit down?” 

“Sure.” 

The stairs were cold beneath Taemin’s butt and he huddled into his sweater, already regretting that he hadn’t grabbed a jacket on his way out. He could see his breath, the wind making the leaves on the street in front of them dance silently. 

“I know I should stop caring about him, but no matter what I try – I always end up going back to him,” Jonghyun murmured after a while, twirling the stem of the leaf between his thumb and index finger.

Taemin nodded understandingly, knowing this feeling all too well. They were both in a similar situation, liking someone who didn’t want to be with them. 

“When did you realize that you like him?” Taemin sniffled, fingers retreating into the warmth of his sleeves. 

“I’m not quite sure, actually.” Jonghyun shrugged helplessly. “Maybe when I woke up next to him one day. He looked so peaceful and pretty – I had the feeling that I wanted to hold onto him and never look at anyone else again. I’m a sappy guy, aren’t I?” He gave a low laugh and Taemin glanced over to find him looking up at the sky, as if he were talking to the moon instead of Taemin. 

A little voice at the back of Taemin’s mind repeated Minho’s words over and over again, urging him to just express his feelings out loud, to get it over and done with. But the time and place felt wrong, and the idea of confessing to Jonghyun scared him. He didn’t want to concern Jonghyun with his childish feelings when Jonghyun already had trouble dealing with his own. 

“You haven’t come to my room in a while,” he uttered instead, sniveling, trying to burrowing his nose into the collar of his sweater. 

“You seemed to hit it off with Minho quite well when we went to that karaoke thing. He slept in your room that night, didn’t he? I just didn’t want to interfere afterward, that’s all. You two look good together. Maybe I was wrong about him.” 

“It’s not like that,” Taemin replied hastily, raising his hands in defense, shaking his head. “He just slept in my room. Nothing happened. We’re just friends,” he finished in a smaller voice, thoughts wandering back to the day when he had told himself to concentrate on Minho to forget Jonghyun. Maybe it had been a stupid idea after all, especially if Minho liked him.

A small laugh came from Jonghyun’s direction and he leaned over to put his arm around Taemin, resting his head against his shoulder and stroking the younger one’s ear with the back of his hand. 

“You are honestly the cutest, Taemin-ah.” 

Saying this, Jonghyun’s hand settled on Taemin’s shoulder, fingertips touching the skin beneath his ear and sending shivers running down Taemin’s back. Lips pressed into a tight line, Taemin could smell the wooden, earthy scent of Jonghyun’s cologne, the fragrance belonging to him as much as the little moles on the back of his neck. 

“You smell really nice.” 

“Do I?” Jonghyun straightened up with a tiny smile, tilting his head so Taemin’s face was closer to his neck.

Taemin didn’t think twice as he bent forward and placed a kiss on the other’s exposed neck, his hand instinctively reaching out to grab the older by the nape and pull him closer. He felt his lower regions react instantly when a soft grunt fell from Jonghyun’s lips, the fingers on Taemin’s shoulder grabbing him a little tighter. 

“What are you doing, Taemin-ah?” There was a hint of amusement ringing in Jonghyun’s voice as Taemin started to nibble on his neck, the younger one enjoying the sensation – the taste – the other’s skin left on his tongue, a feeling of longing creeping up his spine. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he replied meekly.

Jonghyun functioned like a spell on him. Taemin was always, magically drawn to him, even though he knew that being close to Jonghyun would only pull him further down the rabbit hole and end with him lost in a maze created by his own feelings. 

When Jonghyun searched for his lips soon after, Taemin didn’t budge an inch, a low sound coming from the back of his throat as their mouths finally touched again. He hadn’t known how much he had craved for the other’s kisses until this moment; how deprived he had been. Taemin felt himself hardening in his sweats from the mere touch of lips, eagerly responding to the other’s tongue as it found its way into his mouth. 

“I want you,” was all he managed to mumble against Jonghyun’s lips, repeating it over and over again in a small, needy voice as the other’s cold fingers wandered down to his thigh, stroking it. 

“Have you trespassed before?” 

Jonghyun’s lips hovered over Taemin’s as he spoke, and the younger one shook his head, not wanting their kiss to end. 

“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.” Jonghyun stood up and reached out his hand for Taemin to take. 

“What are you up to?” he questioned hesitantly, even as he grabbed Jonghyun’s hand and got up from the cold stairs. He followed Jonghyun back inside the dormitory again, the hallway on the ground floor completely silent and deserted. 

“I’m taking you to the closed-off part of the dormitory. They started renovating the whole wing last semester and plastered ‘Do not enter!’ signs everywhere. It’s quite scary at night, but also very thrilling,” Jonghyun explained in a whisper, towing Taemin to the very far end of the hallway, where they reached a staircase that was sealed off with barrier tape and marked with several signs indicating that it was prohibited to enter this area. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Taemin wavered as Jonghyun started to climb over the barrier tape, the staircase beyond lying in complete darkness. 

“Scared?” Jonghyun grinned, holding onto the railing. 

“I’m not scared, I just dislike breaking rules,” Taemin mumbled, but followed the other anyway because he didn’t want to look like a coward. 

“Such a model citizen.” 

“Was that sarcasm?” 

“Never,” Jonghyun replied and Taemin climbed up the stairs carefully, eyes on the ground to make sure that he didn’t trip, his vision slowly adapting to the lack of light around them. When they reached the first floor, the ground was covered with painter’s plastic, paint buckets, and tools lying around. The hallway looked just like the one on their side of the building, only creepier. 

“Do you come here often?” Taemin whispered, not daring to raise his voice for fear that one of the caretakers of the dorm would suddenly show up out of nowhere. 

“Sometimes. Kibum showed me this place a while ago.”

Jonghyun went straight to the unit at the very end, the door unlocked when he pressed down the handle. Taemin felt like they were breaking into someone’s home when he stepped inside, even though the apartment was uninhabited and lacked any sign of life. 

“It looks exactly like ours,” Taemin noticed in astonishment and kicked off his shoes. 

“Because all units are built the same way.” 

The place looked rather sterile without shoes lying around and dirty dishes stacked up in the sink. Taemin faltered in his steps as he made his way into the apartment, still not sure if this was a place where both of them should be. Jonghyun, on the other hand, went straight to the window next to the kitchen table, opened it, and leaned outside, straightening up again with a box in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Taemin asked in surprise, walking up to the kitchen table where Jonghyun placed the box. 

“It’s a box full of treasures,” the older one grinned, opening the carton, and Taemin took a curious glimpse inside. There was a bottle of wine, a six-pack of beer, a small portable radio, candles, a lighter, cookies and chips, a blanket, and surprisingly enough, lube and condoms as well. 

“Do you come here to fuck?” 

This thought displeased Taemin. He didn’t want to think of Jonghyun coming here with Kibum for sex. 

“No – well, sometimes, but not always. It’s more like a place where one can come if they want to be alone. Living with four people can be kind of confining from time to time,” Jonghyun uttered while taking out the candles to light them, soon dipping the room in a yellowish-orange glow. He then walked over to one of the rooms – in their unit it would be Jonghyun’s – and opened the door. 

“Can you help me for a second?” he asked, and Taemin nodded, entering the room after the older one. The room was equipped with basic furniture: a bed, desk, a chair, and a wardrobe, however, it all looked new and unused, compared to the furniture occupying Taemin’s room. The mattress was still neatly wrapped in a plastic sheet. 

“Let’s carry that thing into the kitchen,” Jonghyun murmured. He grabbed one end of the mattress, waiting for Taemin to take the other side, and together they maneuvered it into the kitchen, to place on the floor in the center of the room.

“We should get the one from this room as well,” Jonghyun added, pointing at the room that corresponded to Minho’s. “It’s comfier with two mattresses.” 

Taemin didn’t say anything, only listened in silence, following the other’s instruction without trying to think too much about it. He needed to work on his presentation and yet he found himself in a forbidden part of their dormitory with the guy he had unsuccessfully tried to banish from his heart and thoughts. 

Several minutes later, they lay on the blanket Jonghyun had spread across the two mattresses they had pushed next to each other, candles placed on the floor around them and the opened wine bottle in Taemin’s hand. It was a cheap one, probably bought at the nearby convenience store, its screw-cap lying next to Jonghyun on the floor. Some random pop song flowed through the speakers of the portable radio and Taemin took a sip from the wine bottle, staring at the ceiling above them. Here they were in the middle of a kitchen, lying on two mattresses, getting tipsy on a Wednesday evening. 

“Maybe Minho does like you,” Jonghyun stated after several minutes of silence, taking the wine bottle from Taemin’s hand to take a sip.

Taemin understood why he preferred to talk about Minho instead of the reason why he had fled their apartment. It was always easier to talk about someone else’s problems than your own. 

“Maybe. He told me that he likes me – whatever he meant by that,” Taemin replied, grabbing one of the cookies from the box separating him from Jonghyun. 

“Mmh – I guess you can see it in his eyes,” the older presumed, letting his fingers dance in front of his face. 

“You can?” 

“Yeah, oftentimes people look differently at the people they like,” he added, taking another swallow.

Taemin turned his head towards Jonghyun, watching him drink the wine. If he could see when a person liked someone, why didn’t he see that Taemin had a serious, undeniable crush on him? Did he not realize it, or had he simply decided to ignore it? Maybe he had chosen to look past it to avoid getting himself into more drama. Taemin could understand if that was the case. 

“What gives them away?” 

“There’s a certain sparkle – it always looks like they are smiling, even if they aren’t,” Jonghyun clarified and turned onto his side as well, removing the cookie box from the mattress and placing it on the floor. 

“So, Tae – are you developing feelings for Minho as well or do your eyes just naturally sparkle like this?” he asked with a little smile, fingers reaching out to tug at the hem of Taemin’s sweater before gliding beneath it, pulling the younger closer by the hip.

Taemin had always considered Jonghyun to be a very smart and clever person, but asking him that question revealed a level of density and lack of common sense that Taemin hadn’t deemed possible. Why would he be lying on the floor with Jonghyun right now if he was into Minho? If he had a crush on Minho, he would most likely be sitting in the lounge right now, watching some stupid soccer match with Minho, Jinki, and some other people from their dormitory. 

“Honestly? I wish I had – it would make things easier,” he uttered with a sigh, his hands instinctively wandering to the button on Jonghyun’s jeans. He knew why Jonghyun had taken him here and in this very moment, he would rather have sex with a dense person than an awkward conversation about his feelings. 

“Someone is being eager,” Jonghyun quipped, pulling his sweater up a little, exposing his nicely trained abdomen. He had once told Taemin that he rarely worked out these days and that most of his muscles were just a souvenir he had brought home from his time at the military, making Taemin wonder whether he would look like that as well after completing his military service. 

“Unlike you, I don’t sleep around, you know.” 

Taemin knew that sounded harsh, but he hoped Jonghyun would ignore the biting tone in his voice. With nimble fingers he unbuttoned the other’s jeans and pulled down the zipper, a prominent hipbone and black boxers becoming visible underneath. He had seen this sight so often by now, but it didn’t excite him any less, and his fingertips glided up the older one’s abs, enjoying the smoothness of his skin. 

“I don’t sleep around either – it’s just you and, well, Kibum,” Jonghyun mumbled and rolled onto his back as Taemin climbed on top of him, thighs settling on either side of his hips _._

 _It’s still one too many,_ Taemin thought resentfully, pushing the other’s sweater up to his armpits and leaning down to lick around his nipples. Not long ago, Jonghyun had mentioned that he had never met a guy who was as obsessed with nipples as Taemin was, and perhaps he _was_ obsessed with them. He liked the feeling of the soft flesh hardening beneath his lips, of the tiny peaks pressing against his tongue. It was most likely a relic from the time he had spent with girls, but Jonghyun never seemed to mind if Taemin took his time nibbling around the skin, lapping at it and twirling the peaks lightly between his fingers. 

Jonghyun had both his hands buried in Taemin’s hair, stroking it, playing around with it while Taemin pressed his thumbs against the hardened nubs, grazing them gently with his nails. 

“Do you think you could get off from just playing with them?” Jonghyun asked, a little mockingly, when Taemin bent down yet again to nudge the hardened flesh with the tip of his nose.

Hearing these words, he bit down hard on Jonghyun’s left nipple, making the other’s back arch as a pained hiss left his lips. 

“If you make these sounds – then it’s a possibility,” he replied frankly, murmuring against Jonghyun’s skin, gently cherishing the patch of skin he had bitten.

The next sound Jonghyun made was less pained and more aroused, sending pleasant tremors right to Taemin’s crotch. He fumbled with the waistband of his sweatpants, unsuccessfully trying to pull them down his butt, then, letting go with an annoyed huff, he sat up and pulled his sweater over his head without making a show out of it, flinging the fabric aside before getting rid of his sweats as well. 

Deciding to act rather than talk, he did the same to Jonghyun’s skinny jeans, pulling down both jeans and underwear a bit roughly, the older one lifting his hips to help. Taemin’s hands automatically pushed Jonghyun’s legs apart when the bothersome clothes were gone, and a soft purr fell from Jonghyun’s lips as Taemin bent to nibble at the softness of his inner thighs. He held onto Jonghyun’s left thigh with one hand, kissing and lapping at the skin, while his right hand began to massage the other’s balls, fingers gliding softly down the seam to Jonghyun’s ass.

He had leveled up quite a bit when it came to his multitasking ability. It seemed to be a matter of practice after all. 

When his lubed up fingers were inside the other’s body, his lips wrapped around Jonghyun’s dick, eyes fixed on the other’s face, he started to wonder why he even tried to please the other, if he was only ever going to be the second choice. Was it his way of trying to convince Jonghyun that he could make him feel just as good as Kibum did – or maybe even better, if he was only given a fair chance? 

“Fuck, Tae,” Jonghyun gasped suddenly, pulling Taemin out of his thoughts by grabbing his head and holding him in place, the older one’s abdomen jerking. “You are going on full _sayajin_ mode right now,” he breathed heavily as Taemin looked at him in confusion and sat up, fingers slipping out of him. 

“Not good?” 

Jonghyun pulled his sweater over his head and scooted over to Taemin, settling down on his knees in front of him. 

“Let’s put it this way: I taught you well, my young _padawan_.” 

That being said, Jonghyun leaned forward with a cockish grin, lips hovering close to Taemin’s ear. “Where do you want me? You have the whole apartment to choose from.” 

The other’s whisper sounded so seductive that Taemin gulped, fingertips scratching along the mattress beneath them, heartbeat quickening. Taemin felt like a child in a candy store who was allowed to splurge on sweets. Jonghyun was right: they could use every room, every item of furniture, and every surface in this apartment; a luxury they didn’t have in their shared unit. Yet it didn’t take him long to decide, one piece of furniture having caught his eyes the second they had entered the empty apartment.

 _The kitchen table_. He had thought about fucking the other on it during their study and game sessions way too often over the past few weeks, but sadly the apartment was always occupied by at least one of their flat-mates, so there hadn’t been a chance to act out his fantasy. 

“Table,” he responded throatily, biting his lip when a knowing smirk appeared on Jonghyun’s face. 

“Good choice.” 

Seeing the other sit up on the smooth surface of the light lacquered wood, heels pressed against the edge, legs spread widely for Taemin’s viewing pleasure and upper body bent slightly backward, made the younger’s mouth water and he moved quickly, grabbing lube and a condom before he walked over to the table, positioning himself between the older one’s legs. He didn’t take his time to marvel at Jonghyun but instead fumbled clumsily with the wrapper of the condom, fingers shaking in anticipation, his body too needy to fool around for long. 

When he finally managed to roll it down and coated himself with lube, he grabbed for Jonghyun’s legs and pulled him a little closer, heart pounding in his chest. He knew they shouldn’t be doing this here, knew he shouldn’t be doing this at all with Jonghyun, but despite all of this he still pressed against him, biting his bottom lip to stifle a moan as he entered him, the comforting heat dazzling. Although he knew this feeling so well by now, his excitement remained the same, eyes locking with Jonghyun’s when he bottomed out, his hands stroking up and down the other’s thighs. 

“Okay?” 

“Always,” Jonghyun replied with a smirk, reminding Taemin of the first time they had ever slept together. Who would have thought that things would end up like this? 

Jonghyun propped himself up on his elbows at first but sank down fully when Taemin started to stroke his insides in a steady rhythm, holding onto him, his thrusts soon becoming more defined. He gripped the edges of the table in response, his body moving back and forth on the tabletop, eyes closed, brows furrowed. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jonghyun moaned loudly, visibly falling apart beneath him.

Taemin couldn’t stop looking at him, roaming over his chest with one hand, scratching the toned body slightly with his nails, only to pull out after a moment, wanting to change positions. Jonghyun whined, his hole stretched open and twitching as Taemin stood in front of him, marveling at it, wanting to go back inside as quickly as possible. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Face the table,” Taemin replied in a low voice and tugged slightly at the other’s legs to make him get up. Jonghyun complied, a little reluctantly, and hopped from the table, grabbing Taemin by the neck to pull him closer. 

“You’ve turned into such a tease,” he whispered against the younger one’s lips and kissed him, fingertips pressing down into Taemin’s nape. 

“I’ve learned from the biggest tease I know.” 

Taemin pulled back and bit his lip, blood pumping through his veins. His hand glided down Jonghyun’s spine as the other bent over the table, elbows resting on the surface, his small butt turned in Taemin’s direction, looking all too inviting. A few red welts ran horizontally across the older one’s lower back from being pushed and pulled over the edge of the table, which would probably turn into bruises the next day.

The thought put a small smirk on Taemin’s face. He liked leaving marks on Jonghyun: he wanted the other to remember what they had done – wanted Kibum to see what they had done, if Jonghyun should end up in the other’s bed again. It was immature, and he knew it.

He lined himself up, placing his legs a little farther apart to better cope with Jonghyun’s shorter ones, and pushed back in. Jonghyun’s back arched beautifully, head thrown back as he gasped. 

There was no need to hold back now, so Taemin’s thrusts quickened rapidly. He didn’t have Jonghyun’s patience yet, didn’t have the control to prolong the act, his mind and dick still overwhelmed too quickly. Hands holding onto Jonghyun’s narrow hips, his eyes focused on his erection disappearing into the other’s ass over and over again, mesmerized by the movement. He didn’t know why this image was so captivating to him – if it was the feeling of superiority he felt while fucking Jonghyun or the feeling of being able to do whatever he wanted to the other’s body in this vulnerable and exposed position. 

His hands wandered to Jonghyun’s buttocks, kneading them, pulling them apart, slapping them, turning the skin a soft shade of pink. He didn’t slap him hard – nothing that could hurt the other in any way – but Taemin loved the sound his hand made when it collided with Jonghyun’s flesh, the little jiggle of skin that resulted, and the stifled moans falling from Jonghyun’s lips in return. 

When Jonghyun started to jerk himself off, Taemin tried desperately to concentrate on not coming, fingernails digging into the other’s buttocks, gaze wandering over Jonghyun’s back and halting at the two moles between Jonghyun’s shoulder blades. It was hard to focus his energy on something other than reaching his own orgasm, but he wanted to give Jonghyun the sweet satisfaction of being fucked while coming. The orgasm felt better that way. It was something he had learned from being on the receiving end from time to time. He knew far more about sex between men now than he had the first time he had slept with Jonghyun, was aware of the pleasure felt from the combination of fullness inside one’s body and the explosive buildup of pressure in one’s loins, the odd but satisfying sensation of being stretched and taken, the thrill of being at someone else’s mercy. 

Taemin didn’t stop thrusting when Jonghyun tensed in front of him, a loud, drawn-out moan rolling from the older one’s lips before his whole body shuddered and his head fell forward between his shoulders, as if his orgasm had drained him of all energy. Placing one hand on the small of Jonghyun’s back, gently stroking the dents above the curve of his butt, Taemin closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to follow the older one over the finishing line. It didn’t take much for him to find his peak, fingernails clawing into Jonghyun’s flesh, his pelvis pounding relentlessly into the other’s body as he came, chest heaving, strands of hair sticking to his flushed face. He rode out his orgasm and then stilled, legs wobbly, hands shaking, his body needing a moment to come back to functioning normally again. 

“You’ve improved so much, Taemin-ah.” 

Jonghyun’s voice sounded raspy as Taemin took a step back and pulled out. The older one turned around and stroked his cheek as he fumbled with the condom, having no idea where to put it after he’d tied a knot at the end. 

“Just stuff it in the wrapper and we’ll take it with us when we leave,” Jonghyun suggested, as though he’d read the other’s mind, and Taemin nodded, picking up the abandoned packaging and stuffing the slippery condom back into it as best as he could. 

Jonghyun loved kissing, before sex, in the middle of sex – if the position they were in allowed it – and after sex, so Taemin wasn’t surprised when Jonghyun drew him into a kiss the second he turned back to him, fingers pulling him as close as possible. Taemin liked kissing as well but wasn’t as into it as the other was. He usually felt too exhausted for it after having sex, the desire to sleep or at least rest for a bit too strong to comply fully with the other’s sentiments. He responded lazily as he felt the tip of Jonghyun’s tongue tickle his upper lip, his mouth opening to let the other in. 

“I’m tired,” he mumbled as the other’s lips pressed down onto his, folding his hands behind Jonghyun’s back. “And I still – need – to work – on that presentation.” 

Jonghyun broke their kiss and looked up at him with those big brown eyes that seemed so innocent and untainted. “You want to leave me alone here?” he said, and it felt like a guilt trip.

Taemin knew this look was calculated and practiced, but that still didn’t defeat its purpose. 

“Come back with me then,” he replied, feeling his insides tumble when Jonghyun’s gaze dropped. 

“In all honesty, I don’t want to hear them fucking,” he replied before breaking away from Taemin, seemingly no longer in the mood for kissing. Instead, he leaned down to the mattress to fish for his boxer-briefs and then angled for Taemin’s, throwing them to him in a high arch.

“Put your clothes back on; I don’t want you to fall sick.” 

When both of them were fully dressed, they sat back down on the mattress, Jonghyun taking a swig from the wine bottle while hugging his knees with one arm. He looked pitiful; small and fragile. That was the only way to describe it in Taemin’s eyes, and it broke his heart because he couldn’t do anything to make the other feel better. Even the sex hadn’t seemed to make much of a difference. He hated Kibum for making Jonghyun feel that way and he hated himself even more for caring so much. Taemin had thought that sleeping with Jonghyun would distract the both of them, but how naïve that thought had been. Sex could only do so much – not heal wounds or mend hearts, only break them at best. 

“Can I be honest with you without you getting angry at me?” Taemin asked after several minutes of silently listening to crappy pop songs on the little radio, another cookie finding its way into his mouth. 

“I can’t promise you that before I know what you want to say.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Taemin licked away some cookie crumbs from the corner of his lips. 

“You know that he won’t ever love you in the way you want him to, right? He’s not worth being upset about.” 

There was silence and Taemin wasn’t quite sure it had been a good idea to be this straightforward. It wasn’t his business to lecture Jonghyun about his feelings, after all. Why judge someone for their unreturned feelings when his situation wasn’t any different? He craved for the love of someone who was obviously not interested in him, who only saw him as a fuck buddy; a past-time activity. 

Taemin watched the other expectantly as he took another gulp from the bottle. 

“Ever experienced one-sided love, Taemin-ah?” 

Stunned by the unexpected question, the younger played with his sweater sleeves, not knowing what to say at first. 

“Well, who hasn’t?” he said finally, grabbing another cookie to occupy himself with something. 

“It sucks, doesn’t it? You want to be with someone, but they don’t care.” Jonghyun looked straight ahead to the kitchen window, taking another sip before offering the bottle to Taemin, who declined it with a shake of his head. One-sided love sucked for sure. He had experienced it every day for several weeks now – or was it months already? 

“Normal functioning people probably move on and look for someone else to fall in love with, but unfortunately that doesn’t seem to work for me. I’ve tried and failed multiple times. If I love someone – I do it wholeheartedly. Even if it’s painful and unrequited. I know it’s pathetic, but that’s who I am. I can’t do anything about it.” 

A deep sigh left Jonghyun’s mouth and he sank onto his back on the mattress, balancing the wine bottle with both hands on his stomach. 

“So – you are going to be in love with him forever and end up old and alone?” 

Jonghyun gave a small laugh and looked over at Taemin for the first time in several minutes, cutely tilting his head. 

“Not alone – I’m going to get at least one dog to accompany me,” he joked and placed the wine bottle next to him on the floor, stretching his upper body with an exasperated sigh. 

“That sounds sad. There are better guys for you out there, Jonghyun. Guys who are less full of themselves and who would actually care about you, not just use you as they please.”

“Are there? Well, I haven’t found them yet, I guess.” 

Taemin bit his bottom lip, eyes focusing on the old-fashioned flowery print of the blanket beneath them. 

“It might help if you opened your eyes from time to time and looked around,” he mumbled in thought, fingertips picking up some cookie crumbs to toss them aside, thinking that this comment might have been too obvious.

He flinched when Jonghyun’s face suddenly came into his line of vision, the other’s head nestling into his lap, big brown eyes looking up at him. Taemin gulped involuntarily, averting his eyes when the other’s gaze became too intense. Jonghyun had a way of looking at people that made you feel like his eyes stared right into your soul, revealing all your deeply hidden secrets. What would he see if he looked at Taemin? 

“See? They are open.” 

Jonghyun blinked several times, one hand stretching up to grab Taemin by the neck, pulling him downward, so he had no choice but to look right at the other again. He felt his cheeks heat up, the change of atmosphere making him slightly uncomfortable. 

“Am I making you nervous? Aren’t we past that stage?” 

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of Jonghyun’s lips as the hand on Taemin’s neck pulled him even closer, a short wave of pain pressing down on his spine from the bent-down sitting position he was forced into. 

“Why would you think that?” 

The words came out in a stutter, not helping in keeping up his charade of being laid back and unfazed by the stare-down they were having. 

“Because you are blushing, and you’re doing that thing when you can’t seem to stop blinking,” Jonghyun grinned before he let go of Taemin, turned onto his stomach, and lifted the hem of Taemin’s sweater, his head disappearing underneath the soft fabric. In confusion, Taemin looked down at the sudden eversion in front of his belly that made him look like a woman in her final stages of pregnancy. He was about to ask what the other was doing when he felt Jonghyun’s lips press gently against his skin, again and again, spreading small kisses along his tummy, thumbs rubbing small circles into his hips. 

His eyes fell shut as Jonghyun’s lips made their way up to his chest, his hands shifting to the mattress on either side of Taemin’s body. 

“Up for round two?” 

Jonghyun’s voice was muffled by the thick material that covered his head, and Taemin shuddered when the tip of the other’s tongue teased his right nipple playfully. 

“Are you serious?” the younger questioned in disbelief, not sure how Jonghyun could switch from an emotional talk to his horny self in the blink of an eye. Maybe it was his way of distracting himself from thinking too much; a coping mechanism. 

“I’m always serious about having sex,” was the answer and a low moan fell from Taemin’s lips as Jonghyun bit softly into his skin, lightly tugging on a nub with his teeth. 

“Jonghyun, we really shouldn’t –” 

He felt himself already hardening again and cursed his body for being so weak when it came to Jonghyun, his back hitting the mattress as the other pushed him down onto it. He couldn’t remember being so easily aroused by someone before, not even Yoomi, the first girl he ever had sex with. What was Jonghyun’s trick? There had to be some magic involved. Maybe Jonghyun was a sorcerer and had joined the Muggle world to cause trouble, or maybe he was a Sith Lord trying to bring disturbance in the Force. 

“Why? You like having sex with me and I like having sex with you –” Jonghyun began, head reappearing from beneath the sweater as his fingertips pushed the fabric up Taemin’s chest. “We are alone here and free as birds,” he continued in an overly seductive tone, leaning forward to nuzzle Taemin’s tummy, lips placing kisses around his belly button, tickling him. “Besides – it seems that our friend here really wants to play again. We don’t want to disappoint him, right?” Jonghyun ended his monologue friskily, one hand gliding into Taemin’s sweatpants to palm him. 

Taemin was defeated before the battle had even started, his body giving up all resistance in an instant when Jonghyun pulled down his sweats and underwear to take him into his mouth, sucking him back to full hardness. In that moment, Taemin realized that he was indeed a hopeless case, his feelings for the other already going way too deep to simply be tossed aside and replaced with someone else. He needed another strategy if he wanted Jonghyun out of his head. Maybe telling Jonghyun the truth and getting turned down in the process would be the easiest way out of his misery after all. Maybe his heart needed to be broken to be able to heal again. 

What was he supposed to do? 

“Jonghyun?” he breathed heavily, holding onto Jonghyun’s head to stop him from working his mouth up and down Taemin’s length. He felt the other hum around him, the sound vibrating against his flesh, as Jonghyun’s eyes looked up at him curiously. 

“Have you ever told him?” 

“What?” The word was almost unrecognizable with Jonghyun having a cock in his mouth, and Taemin pressed his fingertips a little harder into the other’s scalp as he tried to start moving his head again.

“I mean: have you ever confessed your feelings to Kibum?” 

This question caused Jonghyun’s head to move back, Taemin’s dick slipping out of his mouth and flopping against his stomach. 

“Of course I have – more than once, actually,” he answered quietly, his hand closing around Taemin’s cock, giving it a light tug. 

“And he still continued to sleep with you, despite knowing your feelings for him and not returning them?” 

“He did – he _does_ – he’s not good when it comes to empathizing with that sort of thing. But it’s not his fault – it’s mine.” Jonghyun paused to lick his lips. “I could be the one saying no if he wants sex, but more often than not I don’t.” 

How well Taemin knew that problem. 

Jonghyun looked thoughtful for a second and then shook his head, a small impish smile back on his lips.

“But let’s not talk about that. There are nicer things we could be doing now, right?” 

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth teasingly and winked at Taemin, and a deep exasperated sigh left Taemin’s mouth as Jonghyun leaned back down again, twirling his tongue around the head of his cock.

* * *

Taemin woke the next morning feeling cold, his neck stiff and his head aching. He was huddled against Jonghyun, who had an arm around him in a loose embrace, but he had no idea when he had fallen asleep, nor when they had put their clothes back on. They lay beneath the blanket, Taemin’s feet peeking out at the bottom, and he pulled them closer to his body, nestling his face into the crook of Jonghyun’s neck and slipping fingers beneath the other’s sweater in search for warmth. It was the first time they had fallen asleep next to each other, either Jonghyun or Taemin always having left the other’s room after having sex in the past.

Despite the throbbing pain in his temples, he felt content in this very moment, enjoying the closeness of the other’s body; the cozy warmth it emitted. When he tilted his head to take a closer look at Jonghyun’s face, he unconsciously started to smile. Jonghyun’s hair fell messily into his face and his mouth was slightly open, some very light snoring leaving it. _‘He looked so peaceful and pretty – I had the feeling that I wanted to hold onto him and never look at anyone else again. I’m a sappy guy, aren’t I?’_

_I’m a sappy guy as well, aren’t I_? Taemin thought to himself as he lifted one hand and stroked some strands of hair out of Jonghyun’s face. The other’s eyes fluttered open for a second, a dissatisfied grumble leaving his lips as he tried to turn his face away, but Taemin’s smile only widened. Jonghyun was cute beyond belief – not that Taemin would ever tell him that. 

All of a sudden, the thought hit him that he should just tell the other right then and there, his drowsy mind blurring out all possible consequences a confession might entail. He licked his dry lips and swallowed, feeling his heart rate increase. 

“Jonghyun,” he began hesitantly, receiving another grumble in return. “I – I need to tell you something.” 

Taemin watched the other furrow his brows before he opened his eyes again tiredly, blinking several times. 

“Is it important, or can it wait until the alarm clock on the radio goes off?” 

Jonghyun’s eyes fell shut again and Taemin felt himself pulled closer to the other’s chest, a cold nose nuzzling his neck. 

“Jonghyun – I think _…_ ” Taemin paused, sighing when he felt the other’s breath ghosting over his skin. “No – I don’t think – I _know_ ,” he corrected himself, bringing some distance between their bodies to look at the sleepy mess in front of him. “I – like you.” 

Jonghyun gave a soft chuckle. “I like you too, Tae. Now that you’ve got that off your chest, let’s go back to sleep for another few minutes,” he murmured with a sleepy grin, patting Taemin’s head and turning onto his other side, taking the younger one’s arm to curl around his waist.

Taemin pulled a frustrated face in response, puffing up his cheeks. This wasn’t how he had imagined it to go. 

“Jong, I mean I _like_ you – like, a lot. Not just as a friend – more like in a romantic way.” He tried to phrase his confession a little more clearly and stared at the other’s back, waiting for some kind of reaction. Taemin was tense, feeling it in the way his arms flexed and his jaw clenched. He didn’t know why it was taking so long for the other to give some kind of response but was still caught off-guard, like a deer in headlights, when Jonghyun suddenly turned around again and looked straight at him.

“Are you saying you are in love with me?” 

When Taemin nodded tentatively, the expression on Jonghyun’s face darkened abruptly, even as he reached out a hand to touch Taemin’s cheek. 

“Taemin-ah – No – I mean, don’t. I’m the poorest choice of people to fall in love with.”

“I’m aware of that,” Taemin sighed and turned onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Fuck.” Jonghyun bit his lip. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have shown up in your room constantly. I thought it was just fun for both of us,” Jonghyun uttered, turning onto his back as well. 

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” Taemin said in a whisper. “Besides – it really was just fun in the beginning, but my feelings somehow started to _change_ and at some point, I thought yours had too. But they haven’t, right?” 

“Taemin-ah, you are by far the cutest person I’ve ever met, and I like to hang out with you, but I would only make you unhappy, and that’s the last thing I want.” 

Taemin felt Jonghyun’s hand beneath the blanket then, gliding down his arm until it reached his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“We should stop what we are doing,” Jonghyun said then and took a long breath.

Confusion spread across Taemin’s face. “Stop doing what?” 

“This here.” Jonghyun pointed back and forth between them, his hand loosening from around Taemin’s. “The touching, the teasing, the cuddling, the kissing, and the sex – it’s better that way,” he added softly as he withdrew his hand.

In that very moment, Taemin felt his heart slowly break apart, every little piece pricking at him like a needle. He had been rejected by people before, but it had never been this painful. 

“I don’t want it to stop,” he responded out of reflex, watching the other sit up on the mattress. “I’ve dealt with my feelings until now. So, it’s fine.” There was desperation ringing in his voice, a tone he hadn’t realized he was capable of.

“Taemin-ah, don’t be as foolish as me, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. You deserve something better than what we are having right now. Even Minho would be a better choice than me,” the older one insisted in a soft voice, stroking Taemin’s hair, combing his fingers through the tangled strands. 

“We can change what we are having,” Taemin mumbled sheepishly, fumbling with his sweater sleeves, ignoring that Jonghyun had brought up their other flat-mate. He didn’t want to be forced into a direction he didn’t want to take. 

“How? Do you want to use a _neuralyzer_ on me so I forget Kibum’s existence?” There was a soft smile on Jonghyun’s lips, then both of them looked up suddenly at the sound of voices outside the apartment.

“Shit,” Jonghyun swore under his breath as the voices grew louder, seemingly belonging to workers who discussed their plan for the day. 

“Workers?” Taemin panicked, all heartache momentarily forgotten.

“Probably,” Jonghyun faltered and got up from the mattress, flinging everything nearby into the box he had brought from outside. 

“What if they decide to work in this apartment?” 

“We need to get out of here,” Jonghyun spoke under his breath and moved in hurried steps toward the window to place the box on the escape passage just outside. 

“What about the mattresses?” Taemin mumbled, sliding over the floor in his socks to get their shoes from the entrance. 

Jonghyun waved him over hectically. “Doesn’t matter, just hurry up,” he sputtered.

Taemin let their shoes fall over the windowsill before he climbed over it, reminded of the night he had spied on Jonghyun with Kibum. The older one followed him closely, carefully pulling the window shut after they were both outside. 

“We forgot the condoms,” Taemin noted in horror as he took a short peek into the box in Jonghyun’s hands, but the other only motioned him to crouch over to the fire escape. 

“Who cares? No one will know they were ours.” 

A little awkwardly, the two stooped over to the fire escape, which was around fifty meters away, Taemin’s heart pounding in his chest. Just a few minutes ago he had silently watched Jonghyun sleeping, and now he was outside their dormitory building, trying to avoid punishment, his heart torn into pieces.

His legs shook as he climbed down the metal ladder and helped the other with carrying the box, the blanket they had slept in wrapped carelessly around Jonghyun’s shoulders. When they had both reached the ground and felt grass under their feet, Taemin took a deep breath and looked up to the apartment they had come from. It felt like they had stepped through a portal into a completely different world last night; the apartment set in an alternate reality in which everything looked the same but had felt different. Now they were back in their own reality – one Taemin didn’t want to face. 

“At least I’m awake now,” Jonghyun commented, making his way over the meadow to the entrance of their dormitory. “I’m wondering how late it is? When does your first class start?” 

“At 8:30,” Taemin sighed, not wanting to think of going to class with both a headache and a heartache. 

“Skip it.” 

“I probably will.” 

They silently walked back into their dormitory, climbed up the stairs to their floor, and took off their shoes at the entrance. The flat was completely still. 

“At least no morning fucking – If that’s not something.” 

Taemin decided to ignore Jonghyun’s comment and walked over to the kitchen table instead to collect his neglected assignment, his books, and his phone, pressing everything against his chest as if he was hoping to receive emotional support from them. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” he muttered, taking one last look at Jonghyun before he turned around to head to his room.

“Taemin-ah.” 

For a second Taemin hoped that his happy ending had finally come – that Jonghyun had spontaneously decided to throw all his feelings for Kibum overboard and love him instead; that their story would end with them riding together towards the sunset on a white horse – but when he turned around all the other said was “I’m sorry,” with an apologetic expression on his face. 

Taemin nodded and then went to his room, placing his belongings on the desk before falling face-first onto his mattress. He didn’t know whether he was angry or sad, whether he wanted to scream or cry. He felt empty somehow, the loss of Jonghyun’s presence weighing down on his shoulders. It had been different when he had decided for himself that he wanted to stop sleeping with Jonghyun, a decision made of his own accord. But this time the decision hadn’t been his: Jonghyun had decided for the both of them. He was a mere pawn that had been kicked off the table by the Queen.

Checkmate! 

Taemin banged his head against the mattress several times, the dull pain only enhancing the throbbing in his temples. He shouldn’t have confessed. 

Why had he done it in the first place?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there dear readers of this story, ^^  
> I'm back on a Sunday, providing you with some JongTae to let the week end (hopefully) nicely.  
> Thanks for the people who left comments and sent me messages and asks on tumblr regarding the story and the last chapter, this means a lot to me. ♥
> 
> Special shout out to hwarang_number again who takes so much time out of her day to beta this story. You are awesome! Thank you so much! A round of applause please!
> 
> As already announced in cricket nony's ask - chapter 4 won't contain smut. I KNOW - super shocking ;D But I hope you will like it either way.
> 
> Last but not least, a short last question; would anyone be interested in a playlist for this story? Dear hwarang_number brought it to my attention while betaing the last chapter. I just always assume that I use such popular songs that everyone knows them, but that's obviously a very ignorant view. So if anyone is interested in it, I would compile a little list with songs. ^^

The month of December was sheer torture for Taemin. If being with Jonghyun had been almost unbearable, then being away from him kept Taemin in a constant state of inner torment. He spent his evenings at the kitchen table, hoping for the other to join him like he used to, but Jonghyun never came around anymore and worked on his assignments in his own room instead. Tender pats on the head or shoulder? There were none, Jonghyun seemingly trying to keep a safe distance of at least two meters between them every time he saw Taemin in their apartment. Gaming or anime nights? Non-existent. Kissing, cuddling, or sex? Only in Taemin’s dreams. 

Taemin was frustrated – with himself, with Jonghyun, with the world – wanting to be with Jonghyun but bumping against a steel wall of rejection every time he tried to get closer. Meanwhile, Jonghyun’s own pain seemed to grow like weeds during monsoon season, creeping out between the tiniest cracks. However, the cause for the lethargy Jonghyun expressed with every lackluster step he took through their apartment wasn’t Taemin, but the Brazilian exchange student, Lara by name, who dropped by almost daily now, turning into something like a girlfriend. 

Without actually talking to Jonghyun about it, Taemin could still imagine what the other must be going through, being in love with Kibum and watching someone else take the place he had tried to fill for so long. He would have loved to be there for Jonghyun – if only as a friend – but the other had started to isolate himself, sappy love songs seeping non-stop through the gap underneath his door. Taemin would send him texts when he heard Jonghyun crying in his room at night, but he never got a single reply, leaving his heart feeling heavier than ever before. He felt helpless, as though someone had tied his arms behind his back with rope. It felt like he had lost Jonghyun, despite him never having belonged to Taemin in the first place. The friendship they had built seemed to have crumbled into fine dust and had been swept away by Taemin’s confession, like a fresh morning breeze.

As if dealing with his feelings for Jonghyun wasn’t enough, Minho seemed to be trying everything possible to nest in Taemin’s brain: obscuring his thoughts and judgment, confusing Taemin with his ambiguous actions, trying to be there for him while convincing him of Minho’s charms. If they played basketball or soccer together in their university’s indoor sport facility, Minho made sure to take off his tee during halftime, despite the cold temperatures. Whenever Taemin studied at the kitchen table, Minho made him some coffee, a juice, or hot chocolate, providing him with little biscuits or other snacks to make sure that he ate something, and always settled down in the chair Taemin had reserved for Jonghyun, as if he was trying to fill the space Jonghyun had left– like a Band-aid placed over an open wound to protect it from further harm. 

Minho’s relentless efforts were admirable and Taemin appreciated them, but it seemed that his heart couldn’t be swayed: the other’s attempts consistently encountered blind eyes and deaf ears that seemed immune to his existence. Taemin didn’t want to give Minho false hope – didn’t want to repeat his past mistakes, didn’t want Minho to mix up their friendship with something else – and therefore tried to clear the air and solve any misunderstanding about what they were, or could possibly be. But the older one had only grinned at him and patted his head as they stood in the locker room of the gym, having changed back into street wear after playing some basketball, and replied that he liked the challenge with a never-changing bright smile on his face. 

More than once Taemin had thought how much easier his life would be if there was a function in his brain – or maybe an apparatus – that would allow him to transfer his feelings for Jonghyun over to Minho, but his heart didn’t want to hear anything about it. It couldn’t be persuaded, bribed, tricked, or hoaxed, instead it clung desperately to someone who had distanced himself from Taemin and acted like he was a mere stranger, not the person Jonghyun had spent almost every night with for the past few weeks. He knew Jonghyun was behaving like this because he believed he wouldn’t be hurting Taemin that way, but the indifference tugged painfully at Taemin’s chest, and seeing Jonghyun only made him realize that the little parts of the other he had hung to so urgently had begun to slip through his fingers and crash to the floor, splitting into hundreds of pieces that he would never be able to glue back together on his own. 

* * *

“ _Et voilá_ – for you!” Minho placed a bright pink cupcake on top of Taemin’s open textbook and sat down on the opposite side of the table, carefully peeling off the wrapping of his own dessert. 

“What’s the occasion?” Taemin asked, a little surprised, and picked up the cupcake for a closer look. Tiny white and red sprinkles in the shape of hearts covered the pink frosting. 

Cheesy.

“There is none, but I know you have a sweet tooth – and this one reminded me of you. It’s vanilla with strawberry frosting. Try it,” Minho urged and took a bite of his own cupcake, the chocolate frosting leaving a thick line of cream above his upper lip. With a soft smile, Taemin picked up a sugary heart with his thumb and index finger and placed it on his tongue, feeling it dissolve. 

Minho eyed him for a moment before glancing at the books and papers spread out across the tabletop. “What are you working on?” 

“Just another term paper. I need to hand it in before winter break,” Taemin sighed and took a first bite, his eyes widening in delight as a subtle fruity sweetness filled his mouth.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” 

There was a grin on Minho’s face, cheeky and sweet, to which Taemin nodded in response, wiping the frosting from his own lips with his thumb. “It’s delicious.” 

“I knew you would like it.” Minho leaned back in his chair, eyes wandering over Taemin’s notes. “Anyway, can I help you with anything?” 

“Do you know anything about object-oriented programming?” Taemin asked doubtfully, laughing when Minho seemed visibly lost. 

“Not my specialty,” he admitted and stuffed the rest of the chocolate cupcake into his mouth in one single bite. 

Taemin grinned at him. “Thought so.” He placed his half-eaten cupcake on the table, wiped his sticky fingers on his jeans, and picked up a pen to get back to writing.

It happened often these days that Minho just sat at the table with him, simply watching him in silence, as though Taemin was the subject he was studying. In the beginning it had made Taemin quite uncomfortable, but by now he had grown so used to the unasked attention that he had stopped caring, though sometimes it made him wonder whether Minho would have chosen to sit with him if it hadn’t been for Jonghyun sharing this table with him in the past. 

“When was the last time you had sex with him?”

The unexpected question made Taemin frown and he looked up from his book, dumbfounded. “Why?”

Minho shrugged. “No reason, I’m just curious.” 

He took one of the calculus books from the table and flipped it open to a random page. Taemin wondered if he understood any of the formulas he was looking at.

“16 days,” he said after a moment and gnawed on his bottom lip, his grip around the pen tightening. 

“So, you are still counting the days, which means you’re still not over him?” 

“No, I’m still not over him,” Taemin answered swiftly, the words getting stuck in his lungs as the object of his nightly desires came out of his room and walked over to the fridge.

Jonghyun looked like he hadn’t slept in days; his skin ashy, his cheeks sunken in, and his posture slouched. Taemin’s confession and the resulting rejection hadn’t stayed a secret for long in their apartment unit, Minho being too observant to not pick up on Jonghyun’s avoidance of Taemin. The older one had addressed the issue the second the two of them had been alone, and though Taemin had remained reticent, Minho had quickly put one and one together, giving his shoulders a little encouraging massage while saying, “It’s not the end of the world, Taemin. It’s his loss, not yours. Remember that.”

“Yah, Jonghyun, you look like shit. Haven’t slept again?” 

It was fascinating how Minho’s tone changed as soon as he talked to Jonghyun. It felt like he had to prove himself whenever they interacted – like he had to convince himself that he was indeed a better person to fall in love with than Jonghyun. That Jonghyun was some old run-down pickup truck with rusty parts and missing bumpers while Minho was a brand-new sports car, coming right out of the factory. To Taemin it seemed childish, but no one was perfect – apparently not even Choi Minho. 

“In fact, I didn’t. _Thanks_ ,” Jonghyun replied in a tiny voice, as he took a bottle of water from the fridge and closed the door louder than necessary. 

“Do you want to talk?” Taemin offered cautiously, trying to initiate a conversation, trying to help, even though he knew the other would only turn him down.

“It’s okay, thank you. I’m fine – _really_ ,” came Jonghyun’s automatic response. He didn’t even look Taemin in the eye as he spoke and dragged his feet over to his room without uttering another word, going back to hide in his hermit cave. 

“He’s such an emotional fluff ball,” Minho remarked.

“And you are an ass for telling him he looks like shit when you can clearly see that he’s not okay,” Taemin countered, feeling oddly protective of the other. 

“He will be fine. It’s not the first time Kibum’s had something like a relationship going on. He once dated a Korean guy for about a month or two. Jonghyun looked like a zombie back then. Compared to that, he looks like a flower in full bloom right now.” 

Taemin raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical. “I thought Kibum hated relationships?” he asked, puzzled, taking another bite of his cupcake. 

“He does. That’s why his relationships never last. If he finds someone better to spend his time with, he breaks up with the person he’s dating,” Minho explained, propping his chin up in his hand. 

“That’s first-class douchebag behavior. Why is he dating in the first place then?” 

Minho hiked his shoulders. “Because sometimes his mind has this weird urge to do things that people usually only do with their partners.” 

“So why isn’t he doing them with Jonghyun?”

“Because he cares too much about Jonghyun.”

The comment made Taemin snort in irritation and he shook his head, not believing a single word. 

“If Kibum cared even one bit about Jonghyun, he wouldn’t treat him the way he does,” he pointed out. “To me it feels like Jonghyun is just a toy, played with when he’s bored – and tossed away when he finds something more interesting.” 

Minho smiled at Taemin pensively, his toes knocking against Taemin’s beneath the table. 

“You really dislike Kibum, _huh_? I think you have a distorted image of him. Yes, he’s a playboy and yes, sometimes he’s a very eccentric and self-centered guy, but he cares about the people he loves and he actually loves Jonghyun a lot. Even if it doesn’t appear like that to you.”

“If he really loves him, then he shouldn’t treat him the way he does,” Taemin grimaced. 

“Does it surprise you? You know how fucked up their relationship is. Besides, what do you expect Kibum to do? He never raised Jonghyun’s hopes and has always told him that he doesn’t want a relationship with him. If Jonghyun can’t move on, it’s his problem, not Kibum’s.” Minho stretched with a low groan. “However, all of this is none of our business. They’re both old enough to deal with it themselves.”

It felt like Minho had ended their discussion with this final statement, seemingly not interested in talking about Jonghyun and Kibum any longer. A little dissatisfied, Taemin stuffed the rest of the cupcake into his mouth, chewing on the soft pastry as if it were a hard piece of bread. He couldn’t understand why Minho chose to take Kibum’s side when he was the one acting like a heartless jerk without any sense of empathy. He was always so quick to take a shot at Jonghyun but shielded Kibum from any form of criticism as if he were his bodyguard, paid to protect him and his reputation. 

For a while they sat in silence at the table, Taemin still fuming on the inside because he couldn’t wrap his head around Jonghyun’s and Kibum’s unfathomable connection, the tip of his pen scratching the surface of his notepad distinctly as he moved it around. Minho roamed through the calculus book in his hands, not appearing to pay any real attention to its contents; an action to seem busy with something. 

“We should hang again.”

Minho’s words hung in the air longer than they needed to, because Taemin wasn’t willing to pick up on them – not willing to take part in another fencing duel where he tried to dodge Minho’s épée from hitting him right in the chest. As he continued to ignore the comment, Minho grew a little more insistent, one foot creeping up along Taemin’s foot, wiggling his toes, tickling him, annoying him.

“Are you ignoring me now?”

There was a playful edge to Minho’s voice; the tone a little nasal, one Taemin had only ever heard when the two of them were alone, as if Minho was too embarrassed to show this side in front of their other flat-mates. “You don’t want people to talk behind your back, right? So we shouldn’t do it either.”

His foot slithered up Taemin’s shin and knee like a snake, to end on his thigh. Minho’s leg was so long that his toes could easily nudge Taemin’s stomach in this position. “It’s their business, not ours. Jonghyun will get back on his feet, don’t worry. He always does. He’s like a punching bag. You think you’ve beat him only for him to come back at you again.”

Taemin leaned back to watch Minho’s foot, clad in a blue sock, resting on his leg, the heel pressing uncomfortably into his thigh. 

“We should hang,” Minho repeated, finally making Taemin look up.

He sighed. “Minho, I won’t have sex with you.” 

“Not yet.” 

There was that frisky grin on his lips again, the one Taemin had trouble identifying. 

“Not _ever_ ,” Taemin argued and pushed his chair back with a creaking sound, making Minho’s foot slip from his thigh to land on the floor.

Was Minho attractive? Yes. Was Minho incredibly annoying? _Definitely_ yes. 

The smile on Minho’s lips stayed in place.

“Mark my words: one day you will come around and I will be here waiting.”

Taemin grunted in disbelief, not comprehending how anybody could be so full of themselves. Who had given Minho that kind of self-esteem? Was it so easy for him to get what he wanted? So easy for him to wrap people around his finger that he had no doubt he would win Taemin over eventually?

Taemin wished he had that kind of confidence. Then things with Jonghyun might have turned out differently. Maybe if Taemin had told him straight to his face that they would end up together eventually and had actually believed it himself, Jonghyun would be lying naked in Taemin’s bed now instead of moping in his own. 

“That won’t happen. Not in a million years.”

Taemin got up from his chair to go to the toilet, the words “ _I have all the time in the world, Taemin-ah_ ,” echoing after him. 

* * *

Two days later, Taemin lay awake late at night and listened to Jonghyun’s sobbing cut through the wall that separated their rooms. The sound made his heart clench uncomfortably, and he turned onto his side to place his palm against the wall, wishing to connect with the other. Writing a text had once again resulted in no reply and Taemin felt disheartened, wanting to help but not knowing how. Jonghyun had listened to Naul’s ‘[One’s Way Back’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fOmo5BAT3Q) for the past two hours, tearing up every single time the chorus’ words came on: _“Even if you can't say that you love me, you should at least say goodbye, I really hate you for leaving without a word.”_

Despite being in love with someone who didn’t return his feelings, Taemin hadn’t cried once because of it. Crying made him feel embarrassed, and he preferred to laugh things off rather than getting too emotional over them. Showing vulnerability in front of people felt like a weakness to him. It even felt like a weakness when he was alone in his room. He’d never really known how to deal with people who cried and had always sat awkwardly next to his girlfriends during a fight or a break-up. He knew how to fix people’s computers, but not their emotions. Taemin didn’t know how to deal with Jonghyun when he cried, but he wanted to be there for him no matter what. 

When the sobbing started again, Taemin took a deep breath and got up from his bed, ruffled his hair and straightening his white t-shirt with the death god Ryuk from the anime _Death Note_ on it. He silently tiptoed to Jonghyun’s room and knocked, waiting for any reaction, but just like his texts, his knock went unanswered. He knocked a second time, hoping to not wake up any of the other guys in their shared apartment, looking to his left and right to see if any lights turned on.

After his fourth time of knocking, Taemin’s shoulders sank and he leaned his forehead against the door, whispering “Jonghyun, can I come in?” He heard the other cry very clearly and nibbled on his lip, thinking about what to do. 

It took some courage to press down the handle and open the door after not receiving any response. Jonghyun’s room was tinted in the soft glow of candles, and smelled of pine trees and bonfires. He couldn’t see Jonghyun’s head as it was covered by a heavy duvet, the white sheets moving with every faltering breath the other took: a big lump of sadness occupying the bed. Taemin faltered before silently closing the door behind himself and moved over to the heap of misery on the bed to crouch down next to it, reaching out a hand to slowly pull the blanket down and pat the hood of the black sweater that Jonghyun had pulled over his head. 

“Jonghyun,” he muttered and tugged the hood back, revealing some strands of unkempt brown hair, as the other’s body faced the wall.

“Please leave,” came the hushed answer, Jonghyun’s voice sounding hoarse and exhausted. For a second Taemin intended to oblige, but then he shook his head, fingers stroking down to touch a warm, wet cheek. 

“No,” he said, determined, and got up to lift one side of the blanket and slip in next to the other. Jonghyun didn’t respond in any way when Taemin hugged him from behind, pulling him close to his chest and burying his nose in Jonghyun’s hoodie, soaking in its familiarity, his tummy twisting as it remembered the scent. He really wasn’t good with words – especially not comforting ones – so he didn’t know what to say now that the other lay in his arms, sobbing incessantly. 

“Taemin-ah, I really don’t want to see anyone right now,” Jonghyun’s voice resounded in a soft whisper, causing Taemin to grip just a little tighter.

“Then just close your eyes.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

There was silence after that, Taemin holding the other in his arms, feeling him tremble. 

“Have you watched the new _Yuri on Ice_ episode?” Taemin asked. “It’s fascinating how the drawing style is so detailed when a romantic scene is coming up, but the animation goes totally downhill as soon as the guys start skating. I really started to like Otabek, by the way. He’s way cooler than he let everyone believe in previous episodes.”

It was the first thing that had come to his mind and he had expressed his thoughts before even thinking about them for a second. He might not be good at comforting people, but maybe he could at least help to distract the other a little bit.

It took a while for Jonghyun to answer, but when he did it put a small smile on Taemin’s face: “Don’t spoiler me. I haven’t seen the last episode yet.” 

“You should. Russian Yuri skates to _Agape_ again. It’s stunningly beautiful. You will like it,” Taemin added, carefully slipping a hand beneath Jonghyun’s oversized hoodie to stroke his tummy in soothing circles. Taemin’s mother had always done so when he had fallen sick as a young boy to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

“I saw this really weird _hentai_ a few days ago,” Taemin tried again.

Jonghyun turned in his arms at this and two puffy red eyes looked disapprovingly at Taemin from beneath furrowed brows. 

“Taemin-ah, you really get off to the weirdest shit. Can’t you watch your average porn of actual, _real_ people fucking?” 

“I do, but sometimes it’s fun to watch what stuff animators come up with,” he shrugged, quite impressed that his technique of rambling nonsense to distract Jonghyun seemed to be working. “So there was this club of college girls with huge tits, cat ears, and tails, and –” 

“Kemonomimi?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Taemin nodded enthusiastically, lifting his hand to stroke the shell of Jonghyun’s ear. It felt hot beneath his touch, and his fingers wanted to curl around it, keeping it close, missing the sensation of Jonghyun’s skin beneath their pads. “So this whole anime is based on some girls with cat ears who have this club where they pleasure each other. That’s the whole plot. I was so disappointed.”

He pulled a slight pout as his fingertips grazed the other’s reddened cheeks and glided along his jaw. It felt like ages since he’d had the chance to touch the other, and he tried his best to savor every single second of it before Jonghyun realized that Taemin wasn’t supposed to be this close to him anymore; that there should be a distance of at least two meters between them. 

“Be honest – you only watched it for the big tiddies,” Jonghyun claimed in a hushed voice. “I’ve never understood your obsession with boobs, but whatever floats your boat, Taemin-ah.” 

Jonghyun was still sniffling and Taemin watched as single tears rolled down the other’s cheek, but he wiped every one of them away with his thumb, clasping the older one’s legs between his own. 

“I just like squishy, soft things, that’s all – and nipples. I love them a lot – like, _a lot_.”

“I noticed.” 

It was the first time Taemin had seen the other smile in weeks and he felt his chest expand with gratification, his face automatically lighting up. Still, after that short moment of feeling like they were back to normal, an awkward quietness followed and Taemin didn’t know what else he could tell Jonghyun to keep him from thinking too much about Kibum. The other’s phone was still playing that annoying ballad on repeat. 

“Are you up for a round of car racing in the lounge?” he asked after several moments of feeling the other’s breath ghost over his neck, the sensation giving him thoughts and ideas he considered inappropriate under the given circumstances. 

“It’s already past midnight, Taemin-ah.”

“All the better. Then the lounge will be empty, at least.”

“Don’t you have classes early in the morning?” 

“It doesn’t matter. I can also sleep during class.” Taemin shrugged and sat up, pulling the blanket away from Jonghyun. “Come on, it will be fun.” 

That being said, he grabbed the older one’s hand and pulled him up, Jonghyun following a little reluctantly after he took his phone and blew out the candles. Taemin didn’t let go as he dragged him along the corridor and down the stairs, his grip only tightening when Jonghyun tried to break their connection. By the light of the fluorescent lamps installed in the lounge, Jonghyun looked even _more_ pitiful: eyes red and swollen, his cheeks still flushed, his hair a tragedy; unkempt and greasy. He had definitely seen better days. 

“Get comfortable,” Taemin said, releasing Jonghyun beside an old couch with worn-out cushions and walking over to the big flat screen TV set up in one corner of the room, two meters away from the couch.

Some students used this room for study sessions, others for playing games, and sometimes it was used for parties as well, being big enough to fit at least 50 people comfortably. The lounge wasn’t equipped with much besides the TV and couch; just a few tables pushed to the side that could be set up if needed and some stacked-up chairs filled the otherwise empty room.

Taemin crouched in front of the TV cabinet and connected the cable of their old, battered Wii to the TV, taking two of the controllers before pushing the power button. He handed them to Jonghyun, who had settled down cross-legged on the dark blue couch, and browsed through the limited games the dormitory had provided. All of them were outdated, but as a lover of gaming Taemin didn’t really mind. He reached out for the Mario Kart jacket, the cover already half torn, the CD having a few scratches on the back. 

“I’m going to play Toad, just so you know.”

With that Taemin sat down next to Jonghyun, who gave him one of the controllers and nodded with a sigh. 

“I know. You always play Toad,” the older one noted while choosing Yoshi in the menu. 

“And you always play Yoshi,” Taemin retorted, and both of them leaned slightly forward as the game started. 

They went head-to-head for their last game an hour later, Taemin constantly rubbing his tired eyes with the crook of his arm because he didn’t want to let go of the controller and Jonghyun’s bottom lip already bloody from nibbling on it continuously throughout their match. Being his playful self, Taemin tried to distract the other by knocking at Jonghyun’s shoulder with his own, and Jonghyun grumbled under his breath while trying to dodge the other’s trickery. 

“Yah, stop it, Tae!” Jonghyun complained when Taemin’s attack caused him to fall from the rainbow bridge, Yoshi disappearing from the screen for a few seconds. 

“I can’t hear you,” Taemin joked while expanding his lead, yelping when Jonghyun pinched his left nipple. 

“Yah, that’s unfair,” the younger whined, a pout framing his lips and his arms moving in front of his chest protectively, to shield him from any further abuse. He wanted to punch the other with his elbow, but when he saw a genuine smile on Jonghyun’s face he decided not to and focused back on the screen. In the end, Taemin won with a ten second gap, jumping up from the couch as though he had just won an actual championship in car racing, raising his arms with the controller in hand, waiting for someone to come over and hand him a trophy and a big bottle of champagne. 

“This was not a fair game. I would have won if you hadn’t started to bother me,” Jonghyun grumbled, placing his controller next to him on the couch. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me win that last race,” he continued with a huff and crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning his head away when Taemin sat down next to him again. 

“I already let you win the previous rounds,” Taemin claimed with a mischievous smile, laughing when Jonghyun turned back toward him, looking scandalized. 

“Bullshit!” Jonghyun called out and pressed his index finger against Taemin’s thigh.

“Anyway, what’s my reward for winning?” Taemin wanted to know.

“An award for you playing unfairly, you mean? I don’t think so.” 

Taemin let his head sink back against the couch, one leg bent up and the other dangling from the cushion. After a moment of thinking he looked up again, turning toward Jonghyun.

“How about this: as a reward for my excellent driving skills, you start to act like you actually know me again instead of avoiding me all the time.” 

“I don’t avoid you, Taemin-ah. I’m sitting right next to you.” 

“You know what I’m talking about. Let’s be friends again and do stuff like this more often: play games, watch anime together, and study together. I miss that,” Taemin sighed, eyes focusing on a stain in the ceiling. 

“Taemin-ah, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Jonghyun replied timidly and pulled his sweater sleeves down over his hands.

“Why? Being friends with me is not a good idea? Well, thank you.” Taemin pulled a disgruntled face, disappointment visible in his eyes as he got up from the couch to place the two controllers back into the cabinet beneath the TV.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I just don’t want to make it harder for you – I mean – if you still have feelings for me, that is.”

Jonghyun’s voice was very low and Taemin closed his eyes as he crouched in front of the TV, the jacket of the game in his hands. It didn’t matter whether Jonghyun was close to him or far away, both were equally hard for him. 

“I’m a grown-up, Jonghyun. Stop treating me like a child,” he began and opened the CD case to place the game back inside. “I know how to handle my feelings quite well, thank you very much. Besides that you aren’t as irresistible as you might think you are,” he added in a biting tone, unsure why he had felt the need to include that last sentence. Bitterness spread out on his tongue. It seemed no matter what he did, Jonghyun still treated him like a little brother rather than a potential partner and it infuriated him. It was unfair that Jonghyun didn’t seem to realize what they could have if he just opened his eyes properly and saw something else in Taemin besides the cute country boy from next door. 

“I’m sorry,” were the only words he received in reply, and suddenly he felt bad for sounding so passive-aggressive when his main goal had been to lighten the other’s mood. His shoulders dropped and he stared at the CD cases in front of him, licking his lips nervously. 

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not talking about sex, Jonghyun. I just want to hang out with you again, geek around a bit. That’s all I’m asking for,” he backpedaled, straightening from his crouch and getting up from the floor. The atmosphere had turned gloomy and Taemin felt like he had failed his mission, because his own feelings had gotten the better of him, making him blind to the worries of others. 

“If you don’t mind watching the episode again, we can watch _Yuri on Ice_ together. Tomorrow maybe?” Jonghyun’s voice sounded a little cautious, as though he had realized that there might be some truth to Taemin’s words and wanted to compromise. 

“I’d like that,” Taemin replied and turned around to face Jonghyun with a small smile. Maybe they could press the reset button on their friendship and start anew. Maybe it would help them to build a connection without the need for sex. 

Who needed sex anyway?

It was an exchange of physical contact that Taemin could pass on if it ended with him tumbling further into an infinite void. 

* * *

Taemin couldn’t stop thinking about kissing the corner of Jonghyun’s lips as they sat next to each other on his bed the next day, his laptop on the desk in front of them. Jonghyun was wrapped up in a blanket he had brought from his room, with Taemin’s blanket lying over his knees, as he leaned against the wall with a pillow behind his back. After watching the latest episode of _Yuri on Ice,_ they had started on _91 days_ , an anime Jongin had recommended to Taemin during their latest video call. When Jonghyun began to nibble on shrimp-flavored chips, the tip of his tongue occasionally dipping into the corner of his lips to lick away the seasoning, Taemin found himself unable to concentrate on the screen any longer, envying every little grain of spice that landed on the other’s tongue. Fingers clawing into his bedsheets, Taemin forced himself to look back at his laptop, trying to ignore the crunching sounds coming from the man next to him. 

Who needed sex anyway? 

It had been a frivolous, naïve statement that Taemin regretted ever believing as blood rushed into his neither regions and he had to cross his legs to hide all evidence. He felt like a hormonal teenager who couldn’t control his urges and popped a boner at the mere sight of an elbow, and he despised himself for it. It took some time, but thinking about something sad eventually helped him to get control over his body, but he avoided looking at Jonghyun at all costs, his eyes fixed on the screen as if his life depended on it. His conscience haunted him for still thinking about his flat-mate in a sexual manner as a film of all the surfaces he had bent Jonghyun over, of all the spots he had made him cum, ran through his mind in a loop, reminding him of what he was missing out on.

“It’s weird,” Jonghyun mumbled, his voice muffled by a mouthful of chips. Taemin responded with an acknowledging hum, still staring straight ahead. 

“Usually, we would be naked by now. But this here is nice. Just sitting together, watching anime, munching on this unhealthy junk food. It’s refreshing, for a change,” the older one explained in a calm tone, which made Taemin feel even worse about his not-so-innocent thoughts. He almost jumped when Jonghyun stretched and their knees touched for a split second, sending electricity shooting through Taemin’s veins. 

“See, nothing to worry about,” he lied and pulled up his legs to hug them with his arms, wanting to curl up and be left alone with his dirty mind.

“Thanks, Taeminnie.”

Taemin frowned. “For what?”

“For being a friend,” Jonghyun replied, and Taemin knew he shouldn’t have looked but he did anyway, his heart leaping out of his chest when their eyes met.

Was this what being _friendzoned_ felt like? Taemin forced himself to smile before he turned back toward the laptop, trying not to make it too obvious that his heart was about to expand to the size of a fully blown-up balloon. Apparently, his feelings for Jonghyun had only increased in the time the two of them had been apart. He felt like a person who had fallen in love for the first time in his life, and it made him wonder if he had ever been in love with any of his girlfriends in the first place or if everything had been only an act. If he had convinced himself to think that he was in love because girls had confessed to him and Jongin had influenced him into going out with them because they were either cute or hot – or in some cases, both. 

During the next few days, Taemin realized that he must have a masochistic side he hadn’t known of for the first nineteen years of his life. Being with Jonghyun felt like being in the dungeon of a dominatrix, hanging on a St. Andrew's cross, and waiting for a whipping that would leave his back and chest covered in red welts. He physically longed for the other so badly now that he ended up masturbating to selfies Jonghyun uploaded to his Instagram account after the two of them had finished studying at their shared kitchen table. Taemin felt like a creep and pervert for being this primitive, thinking about self-chastisement and praying ten Hail Marys on his rosary ring whenever he had cum, but he preferred to comply with his carnal desires in the secrecy of his bedroom rather than risk his friendship with Jonghyun by trying to get close to him physically again. 

Interestingly enough, Jonghyun’s mood magically rose after Kibum stopped bringing that Brazilian girl home, and Taemin wondered how the other had managed to survive this never-ending vicious cycle for so long without having gone insane by now. Jonghyun had barely made him suffer since early October and Taemin already felt like van Gogh –closer to madness than he would have liked to admit, walking through Dante’s nine circles of Hell each night, wondering when his feelings for Jonghyun would ever subside. 

He felt emotionally drained and exhausted, not even caring whether Jonghyun intended to turn up in front of Kibum’s room anymore to wag his non-existent tail like an obedient puppy. Taemin’s only wish was for his hormones to go back to a level where he could function normally in his daily life –to be able to face Jonghyun again without the fear of getting an unwanted erection out of nowhere.

It was painful to be around Jonghyun and it was painful to _not_ be around him. 

* * *

Taemin wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse when winter break finally came around and everyone left to spend time with their families at home. For him, this meant rotting away for several hours on different buses with bad heating to celebrate Christmas with his parents and the family dogs in the countryside, far away from the turmoil of the city – far away from Jonghyun.

Coming back was odd: he felt as if he was visiting someone from the past, everything still looking the exact same way he had left it, as if time had stopped when he stepped onto the bus to begin his studies in Seoul. It felt nice to be pampered by his mother again; Taemin’s clothes hadn’t smelled this good since he had moved out, and his immune system and health thanked his mother for cutting him fruits every morning and serving a lot of vegetables with every meal. However, a part of him missed his independence; the feeling of being able to do whatever he wanted. To not be told that chocolate cereal wasn’t healthy and he shouldn’t be eating it as a snack, that he shouldn’t sleep until noon, and that he should put on proper clothes and not run around in his pajamas all day. 

He stayed in sporadic contact with his flat-mates via their group chat, wishing all of them a “Merry Christmas” before he went out to church with his parents on Christmas Eve, only receiving replies from Jinki and Minho, who wished the same to him. Instead of sending him a “Merry Christmas,” Jonghyun forwarded a photo of himself cuddling with a friend’s dog on a couch and showing a toothy grin. Taemin spent the entire journey from their front door to the church and the whole way back home afterward taking secret glances at it, missing the other as he sat with his family – including uncles, aunts, and cousins, all of whom discussed the new priest and the Christmas sermon at a volume that made them appear like barkers trying to sell their wares at markets – on the living room floor for dinner.

It was tougher to be away from the dorm than Taemin had expected, the untidy apartment with thousands of dust balls that his flat-mates treated like pets having become his second home, while he felt like an alien in his own home. Being the first in his family to attend a university in Seoul, Taemin was treated like a superstar by family members who wanted to know everything about his life in the country’s capital, his younger cousins looking up to him and their parents seeing him as a role model who their children should aspire to be like.

If they only knew what the model child had been up to while living in the big city; what his thoughts had been occupied with while they shared the food on the table. Although Taemin had hoped that he might manage to overcome his feelings for Jonghyun during this time away, the exact opposite was happening: his longing for the other was growing every day, resentment and despair becoming his permanent companions as he lay awake at night and browsed through Jonghyun’s social media. 

“Man, I think I want to break up with Chanmi. She just doesn’t get me.” 

Taemin sat next to Jongin on the floor of his room a few days after Christmas, each of them having a dog in their lap while they played Mortal Kombat X on Taemin’s PlayStation 4. The same way Taemin always chose Scorpion, Jongin chose Sub-Zero – the character choice instantly reminding him of the times he had played the game with Jonghyun, back when things had been different – _easier._ Too lost in his own thoughts, Taemin didn’t reply, concentrating only on attacking Jongin’s character on screen.

The other eventually sighed and paused the game. “Have you even been listening?” 

Looking up, Taemin frowned, Scorpion’s body frozen mid-attack. 

“Hey, don’t pause the game when I’m about to kick your ass,” he grumbled, giving Adam, the small Maltese sitting in his lap, a little head scratch. 

“Unbelievable.” 

Jongin shook his head with a scoff and pressed the button to continue the game, firing an ice ball at Taemin in the next second and decreasing Scorpion’s health bar at the top of the screen. 

“You are an absolute mess since you stopped fucking that guy, just saying,” Jongin pointed out, firing so many attacks in a row that Scorpion fell to his knees – defeated. Taemin’s friend turned toward him the second the game was over and placed the controller on the floor. 

“You told me all this time that you are only fucking for the sake of fucking, and I’m like – good for you.” He hiked his shoulders and gestured around. “But now you are really just – a lousy friend. That dude must have been amazing in bed to fuck with your head like that.” 

A loud sigh left Taemin’s mouth and his shoulders slouched. “I’m sorry for being so _blergh_ at the moment. Believe me – I can’t stand myself either.”

“I thought it was just sex?”

Pressing his palms against his eye sockets, Taemin took a deep breath and straightened up. “Yeah, it was – until it wasn’t,” he said cryptically and got up from the floor to stretch his limbs, feeling his joints crack.

“I might have developed feelings along the way.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Taemin shrugged feebly. “I don’t know. Would that have changed anything? It doesn’t matter anyway. He turned me down.”

Jongin’s eyes widened a little. “You confessed?”

When Taemin nodded, Jongin’s teddy bear eyes grew bigger and he carefully placed the brown toy poodle called Eve on the floor before he got up as well and boxed his friend, who immediately rubbed his shoulder with a frown.

“Bro, what the actual fuck? Were you going to tell me at some point, or did you want to pretend like that never happened?” 

“The latter,” Taemin sighed and slumped down into the chair in front of his desk, holding his upper arm, enjoying the pain flushing through his flesh, distracting him from the pain in his heart. Jongin had always been the more expressive of the two when it came to talking about one’s feelings, always telling Taemin everything, be it about him falling in love again, hooking up with someone, getting his heart broken, or being the one who broke someone’s heart. Taemin had never minded the fuss his best friend made but had always preferred to be a little more secretive about his own feelings, not saying more than necessary in case things didn’t work out the way he had hoped. 

“Why?”

“Because there is no point in talking about it.” 

There really was no point in sharing his feelings with anyone. He had been turned down and wanted to suffer in silence without burdening anyone else with it – end of story. 

“Why did he turn you down, though? From what I’ve gathered, you seem like a match made in nerd heaven.” 

Scratching his brow, Taemin rested his arms on his desk and stretched them out until he could reach the edges with his fingers and grip them. “He likes someone else.”

“Huh.” It was the only thing Jongin said for a while, and he went over to Taemin’s window to take a look outside, Taemin watching him from the corner of his eye. 

“So, he slept with you despite liking someone else? The people from the city seem wild.”

Taemin couldn’t help but chuckle, finding it funny and sad at the same time how right his friend was. His flat-mates really had a different set of morals and a different way of thinking compared to the people from the countryside. They seemed to be swayed more easily, changing their opinions and attitudes almost daily, copying the fast rhythm of the city that never came to a standstill and was always in a state of transformation, chasing the unknown. People from the countryside were more stable; maybe a little stubborn. They stuck to their principles, and tended to the old ways; the things they were used to.

“They are. They are,” he repeated with a nod and let his forehead sink onto his desk, sighing loudly. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten involved with someone from the city; maybe he was too much of a country boy to handle their temperament. Dating in the countryside was easier – since there were fewer options.

Jongin gave him a pat on the shoulder and told him not to let his head hang down, that he would get over his flat-mate eventually, but Taemin wasn’t listening anymore.

How long did it usually take to get over someone?

It was a question Taemin asked himself continuously throughout winter break, and by the end of it he still hadn’t found an answer. When he had come to his parents’ house, he had hoped to be able to take a step back and look at the whole picture instead of focusing on one single puzzle piece, but when the time came to leave again, he still hadn’t figured out the correct arrangement of the puzzle. He was still clinging to Jonghyun like a baby to its pacifier. 

Taemin was the last to return to the dorm. When he opened the door to their apartment on the last Sunday before classes started again, a pile of sneakers lay disorganized in the entrance for him to climb over on the way to his room.

He couldn’t help the sigh falling from his lips when he passed Jonghyun’s door and wondered what the other was up to. Jonghyun had uploaded a few photos to his Instagram story in the past two weeks, most of them containing his sister and mother – or a lot of homemade food. All he had shown of himself in his life updates were his hands when he talked about one of the books he was currently reading. In a weak moment Taemin had gone so far as to take a screenshot of Jonghyun showing the cover of a book and had zoomed in on his hands, just to feel a little closer to him, counting the veins on the backs of them as he tried to remember what Jonghyun’s hands had felt like against his skin. It was pathetic behavior, but he just couldn’t help it. 

He placed his suitcase in a corner and threw himself on his bed, and the minute he connected his phone to the dorm’s _Wi-Fi_ , he felt his phone vibrate, the display showing two new messages simultaneously floating in. The first one had been posted to the dormitory’s group chat by Kibum and simply read ‘ _Next_ _Friday 8pm – party at the lounge. Everyone brings their own booze’_. The second message was the more exciting one, making his insides feel all tingly as a smile spread on his lips. ‘ _You’re home?_ ’ it said, to which Taemin immediately replied, ‘ _Yeah, just got to my room.’_ He could hear Jonghyun’s swivel chair move on the other side of the wall, then there was the sound of a door being opened and closed again before Taemin could hear a knock.

He looked up, his chest tightening. “Yeah?”

Breath hitching, Taemin bit the inside of his cheek and pricked his thumb with the fingernail of his pointer finger to suppress the impulse to walk up to Jonghyun and kiss him, the other never having looked as handsome as he did just now, when he came in with a smile on his lips. Or maybe he had always been this handsome and Taemin just hadn’t realized it because they saw each other every day, but either way, he had a hard time not telling Jonghyun how beautiful he looked.

In conclusion, Taemin realized, the winter break had only intensified his feelings for the other instead of helping him to overcome them, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He couldn’t force himself on the other and didn’t want to trouble him with his feelings, but it was hard to pretend that they were just two flat-mates when all Taemin could think about was how much better Jonghyun would look underneath him, without any clothes on and with his legs spread. 

“Hey stranger, long time no see.” Jonghyun sent that cute boyish smile his way, the one that always made Taemin’s knees feel all wobbly, as he held up a paper bag with both hands. “It’s cookies. We baked a ton,” he clarified when Taemin looked at the bag. 

“Thank you.” Taemin took the bag with a short bow of his head, not knowing why he felt like he needed to act formally around the other when Jonghyun had sat on his cock so often in the past. Formality seemed out of place.

He glanced inside, a Christmas-themed cookie tin coming into view and something flat, wrapped up in green paper. He pulled it out and held it up.

“What’s this?” 

“Something we talked about a few weeks ago. Maybe we can play it together some time. I saw it when I went shopping with my sister,” Jonghyun explained and pushed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

Taemin was immensely confused and decided to unwrap the gift before he went on to speculate too much about its meaning. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” he said as he detached the sticky tape on each side. “I don’t have anything for you. Besides, you said that you hate Christmas,” he continued, stroking the wrapping paper aside.

“It’s not for Christmas. No special reason, really.”

Taemin pulled out _Titanfall 2_ , a game they had talked about a while ago after Taemin had come in Jonghyun’s mouth.

“It’s for PS 4,” he said matter-of-factly and Jonghyun chuckled sheepishly.

He combed his fingers through his hair and raised his shoulders. “Our laptops wouldn’t be able to handle it – or at least, mine wouldn’t. You said you’ve got a PS 4 at home, right? You can play it there or just bring it back with you the next time you go home.” Jonghyun smiled cheekily. “Not that this was a broad hint to bring your PS 4 to the dorm.” 

“Thank you, really.” Taemin wanted to hug him and kiss him and go on his knees and suck him off, but he didn’t do any of these things. Instead, he smiled a little awkwardly and turned the CD jacket over to read the short synopsis on the back, feeling touched that Jonghyun had remembered that he wanted to play this particular game.

Their chemistry was different now and Taemin still wasn’t used to it. They were friendly but distant with each other, which was a peculiar feeling considering how close they had been. Taemin wondered if Jonghyun had bought the others some gifts as well or if he could feel special as he placed the game on his desk.

“So, what have you been up to? Had a nice time at home?” 

“I guess.” Taemin shrugged. “I spent most of the time playing games with Jongin and eating my mom’s food,” he answered plainly, wanting to sit down on his bed but not daring to. “How about you?” 

“It was good.” Jonghyun nodded, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet. Taemin wondered if the other could feel the awkwardness too or if it was just him. “I met up with a few friends from high school but spent most of my time with my family. It was nice.”

“Cool,” Taemin answered him shortly, not sure what else there was to say. He had wanted to stay friends with Jonghyun because he liked him a lot, feeling a real connection between them, but he wasn’t sure how to act around him anymore. He wondered if there was a manual he could read for people who had slept together and now tried to return to just being friends. Taemin couldn’t be the only person on this planet who had gone through that process and felt powerless. 

* * *

_‘Meteor shower tonight? Anyone care to join me on the roof?_ ’ 

Taemin glanced at his phone, lying on the desk in front of him. His professor stood at the front of the lecture hall, writing a formula on the blackboard while explaining something Taemin hadn’t paid attention to for the past ten minutes. The friend to his left had leaned closer to doodle penises into his notepad like a middle schooler, while the classmate to his right played some mobile game on his phone, a blank sheet of paper lying on his desk; still a virgin, having not been touched once in a sixty minute duration. 

_‘Can’t – I’m having my weekly meet-up at university with the foreign exchange students.’_

Taemin’s phone blinked up again, Kibum having answered Jonghyun’s text in their group chat, adding a croissant and baguette emoji.

Was there anything more romantic than stargazing on a roof with one’s crush? Probably not, and Taemin thought so as well, having to remind himself that his love was one-sided and that he would never get the chance to express his feelings in the way he wanted to: telling Jonghyun that he would catch all the stars and even the moon and lay them down at his feet if he wanted him to.

Taemin tried to focus back on his professor and was shocked when he saw that the entire blackboard had been plastered with numbers and variables. He tried to follow his professor’s train of thought but eventually gave up, having lost him in the third row. 

_‘Too cold. Maybe in summer.’_

Jinki’s reply was next, short and to the point; everything that needed to be said put into a few simple words. Taemin wanted to wait for Minho’s answer before he replied, but when the bell rang at the end of the lecture and the other still hadn’t responded, he seized the chance and typed a simple ‘ _Sounds fun. I’m in ^^’._ He hoped they could use the cold evening for some rekindling of defunct affections to warm each other and spent the rest of his lectures that day daydreaming of having sex with Jonghyun on the rooftop of their dormitory beneath the stars. 

The thing about daydreams was that they never matched reality, not even in the slightest. 

When Jonghyun and Taemin climbed up the ladder to the rooftop that night, clad in their warmest winter clothes with blankets wrapped around their shoulders, there was nothing of the steamy hot atmosphere Taemin had imagined in his head. He shivered from the cold, wanting to go back to his room and huddle up in his bed as soon as they had overcome the last rung of the ladder and the freezing cold wind wafted past his nose. They weren’t the only ones on the rooftop, some familiar faces Taemin had seen at their lounge parties or in the hallways of their dormitory having settled down to watch the night sky as well, some even having brought camping chairs. 

They had both brought their bags to carry Thermos bottles of hot drinks and seat cushions, and Taemin envied the people who had brought chairs as he sat down and wrapped the blanket closer around him. 

“Thanks for coming with me, by the way,” Jonghyun said after a while, pouring out some hot chocolate for the two of them. “Would have been weird to come up here alone.”

“Why?” Taemin asked, clasping his cup with both hands to warm himself, the cold biting at his cheeks and creeping up his back despite all the clothes he was wearing. But what had he expected? It was January, after all. 

Jonghyun hiked his shoulders. “No specific reason, it just feels weird to me. Look: no one came up here alone,” he pointed out. 

There were ten people altogether and Taemin assumed that all of them except for Jonghyun and himself were either in a relationship or at least dating. He dreaded the moment when none of the others would pay attention to the night sky anymore, instead making out with the person sitting next to them. Not that there was anything remotely reprehensible about it; quite the contrary: Taemin envied them because snogging his seatmate was something he would have loved to do as well. 

“We’re in luck that the sky is so clear tonight,” Jonghyun commented, eyes fixed on the night sky while Taemin’s eyes were fixed on him. Taemin liked the night sky but he liked Jonghyun way more. Huddled up in his oversized jacket, Jonghyun appeared small and fragile and Taemin wanted to reach out to wrap his arms around him from behind, to snuggle up against him. 

“I always wondered why stars twinkle so much – or do our eyes just play tricks on us?” Jonghyun took another sip from his cup after he finished his question, small swirls of steam soaring from the hot chocolate.

“They don’t.” Taemin felt the need to lecture the other and hugged his legs, feet bobbing up and down to keep his body moving in some way. “I mean – they don’t twinkle.”

He licked his lips when Jonghyun glanced at him. 

“So our eyes are tricking us?”

Taemin shook his head. “No, not really.” He picked up his cup and took a sip, the hot liquid running down his throat, warming him from inside. “It’s – it actually hasn’t anything to do with the stars. It’s the earth,” Taemin explained. “So basically – when the star’s light passes through the atmosphere, it has to wander through many layers of differing density. Imagine the star like a Rattata running through low and high grass. Through every layer the light is deflected slightly, which causes it to change in intensity and even color. So it’s just an illusion that stars twinkle – but in reality, they don’t.”

“So the atmosphere is tricking us and not our eyes?” Jonghyun smiled at him kindly, which made Taemin chuckle.

“I guess you can put it like that.” 

Jonghyun gave an understanding hum. “The more you know, I guess,” he said and placed his cup on the concrete, his arm brushing against Taemin’s knee in the process, warming Taemin’s cheeks – and his heart. “I didn’t know you were into astronomy.” 

“I just like watching documentaries,” Taemin shrugged. A gust of cold air made him shudder and he tried to make himself smaller, wanting to drown in his jacket and pretend to be a penguin, hoping that Jonghyun would inch closer so they could form their own little penguin colony and keep each other warm.

Jonghyun’s knee nudged against his. “I thought all you watched was anime?”

“There are a lot of sides to a person. You should know best, right?” 

Taemin’s words hung in the air like twinkling stars for a while, and Jonghyun’s gaze wandered back to the darkness above their heads, where the first shooting star appeared and left as quickly as it had come. 

“Professor Lee, any other fun facts about the stars you want to share?” Jonghyun spoke in a playful tone as he stretched out his legs, his black boots looking way too big and heavy to be carried around by his thin legs.

“Mmh –” He tried to come up with another random fact. “All the stars we can see are bigger than the sun.”

Jonghyun raised a finger. “I knew that one,” he said proudly and pulled his legs towards his body again. “You’re quite smart, aren’t you, Lee Taemin?”

“I was valedictorian,” Taemin mentioned _en passant_ , hiding his nose behind the collar of his jacket, trying to warm its tip. 

“Wouldn’t have guessed.”

Taemin snorted, insulted. “Well, thank you.”

All of a sudden there was a hand on his knee, patting it apologetically, fire burning underneath his skin. “That’s not what I meant. You just don’t appear like a smartass.”

“Being a smartass usually doesn’t get you laid.” 

The laugh Taemin earned in response was light and clear, and some of the other people from their dormitory even turned their heads to see what was so funny. 

“I see.” Jonghyun cast him one quick glance, his eyes appearing to twinkle far brighter than the stars high up in the sky.

His daydream from earlier flashing up in front of his eyes, Taemin had to drink his hot chocolate before his mouth decided to say something stupid and quickly gulped down a third of his cup. He blinked and shook his head when he saw Jonghyun in front of him naked, his daydream overlapping with reality. 

“There are a lot of layers to you, aren’t there? You are like an onion – the more I peel, the more I learn,” the other said thoughtfully, his arm rising abruptly when several shooting stars appeared in the night sky. “Wow – look, so pretty,” he exclaimed, a pensive smile tugging at his lips.

Taemin wanted to tell Jonghyun that he could peel off all his layers; could push forward to reveal his darkest secrets, his worst fears. He wouldn’t mind. He wanted Jonghyun to know everything there was about him, the same way he wanted to know everything about Jonghyun. 

It was nice to watch the night sky with Jonghyun, though it was difficult to accept that, unlike the other people who shared the rooftop with them, he wouldn’t end up with Jonghyun sitting in his lap and making out with him. 

“Taemin-ah, what are your thoughts on piercings and tattoos?” 

A little startled, Taemin looked at Jonghyun with a furrowed brow, not quite understanding how the other had gone from checking the night sky to thinking about body modifications. 

“My thoughts?” he asked. “They are hot, I guess.” 

Jonghyun hummed. “You don’t have any, though.”

“No, I don’t,” Taemin answered matter-of-factly, hands going over to rub his legs as the cold began to seep through his jeans and lick at his skin. 

“Don’t want to?” 

Taemin grimaced indecisively. “More like undecided what to get yet. But eventually, I do want to get some, I think.” 

Another hum, and with that Jonghyun’s curiosity seemed to be nourished, as he went back to concentrating on the stars, leaving Taemin a little befuddled. It was a thing Jonghyun did sometimes: asking random questions out of nowhere that seemed to have no correlation with anything they were doing or talking about. It was a cute quirk that Taemin found endearing, though it sometimes made him wonder what went on in his flat-mate’s head. Jonghyun was probably an onion as well – a far bigger one, maybe. 

“How are things with Kibum?” he heard himself ask without thinking and watched as Jonghyun’s head fell forward between his shoulders for a second, a lopsided sneer on his lips. 

“Same as always,” Jonghyun answered him, short-spoken, and Taemin repeated the words in his head, not knowing what they meant. He had seen them come home together sometimes when he studied at the kitchen table, had watched them laugh at each other’s jokes, jealousy flaring up inside his guts whenever Kibum made the other laugh. Kibum wasn’t supposed to make Jonghyun laugh. Kibum was the one who made Jonghyun cry; it was Taemin’s job to make him smile again. If Kibum took even that away from him – what was left for him to do? 

Taemin wanted to probe further, to know the status of Jonghyun’s and Kibum’s relationship, but before he could get that far, he heard a familiar voice call over to them. 

“The star of the evening is here. The party can start.” 

Disbelief washed over Taemin’s features as Minho popped up in his field of vision, teetering over to them in his navy blue winter coat that reached down to the middle of his thighs. 

“I sent a message to the group chat but neither of you answered, so I figured you might be up here already,” Minho added as he came to a halt in front of them and looked down at Taemin with a smile. “I forgot my phone in my room this morning and only saw the message when I got home from uni. I hope you two don’t mind.” 

Taemin _did_ mind, and for some reason he was sure that Jonghyun did as well. But Minho didn’t seem to sense their reservations and settled down next to Taemin, crossing his legs confidently. _What a massive cock block,_ Taemin thought, when Minho began to intrude on the private moment they had shared. He wasn’t sure why the other had come up to the roof in the first place, but it was hard to believe that it was because of the meteor shower. 

“Have you seen some shooting stars already?” he asked curiously as he placed both hands onto Taemin’s thigh and kneaded into it as if it were a stress ball. 

“A few – not too many yet, though,” Jonghyun answered him, and Taemin noticed the quick glance Jonghyun cast at the foreign hands on his thigh before he directed his attention back to the sky. 

“Then I haven’t missed anything yet?”

Whether this question had a double meaning or not was probably debatable, but both Jonghyun and Taemin shook their heads, the latter pulling his leg away to send a message, which clearly reached the recipient and led Minho to put his hands back into the pockets of his coat. Taemin knew that he was treating Minho unfairly, considering that not long ago, he had wanted to use the other to forget all about Jonghyun, but he was done with all of it, having realized that he was bad at playing poker and that the aces he had up his sleeve had turned out to be twos and sevens instead.

With a sigh, Minho let himself sink onto his back and looked up at the sky, bending his legs and resting one leg on top of his knee. He looked at the night sky for a while before he turned his head toward Taemin and asked: “I’ve always wondered why stars twinkle.” 

A small snicker could be heard from Jonghyun’s direction, but before Taemin had the chance to say anything, the other beat him to it. “Actually, they don’t,” Jonghyun began in a teaching manner. “When the light hits the atmosphere it passes through different levels of density, which deflect the light of the star and make it appear as if the star is twinkling, but in reality it’s not.” 

Taemin grinned into the collar of his jacket, feeling his heart beat quickly in his chest, and an involuntary chuckle fell from his lips when Minho commented with the word, “Smartass.” 

Jonghyun joined him in the laughter he couldn’t suppress any longer, and the two of them shared a small intimate moment when their eyes met. Taemin’s heart jubilated, reminding him that he could still share little inside jokes with Jonghyun even if he couldn’t share his bed nor his body anymore. 

* * *

“You shouldn’t drink so much, Tae.” 

Minho nudged Taemin with his shoulder as he opened his third can of beer, his eyes fixed on Jonghyun who was talking to Kibum on the other side of the room. It was the ‘ _Welcome back to hell’_ party at their dormitory, which was only bearable with alcohol, and Taemin hung lifelessly in his uncomfortable chair, pitying himself for the life he was leading. 

“I don’t understand why he’s going back to him over and over again,” Taemin mumbled, more to himself than to Minho, taking a sip from his beer as he followed Jonghyun’s movements, seeing the older one lean over to Kibum to whisper something in his ear. 

“Because he’s dumb?” Minho guessed bluntly. His legs were slightly spread, his hands holding a small plastic bowl of peanuts. 

“Mmh – most likely,” Taemin agreed with a sigh, tilting his head to the side, pulling a face when he saw Jonghyun laugh at something Kibum had said. 

“How’s your ‘No, we are not fucking anymore and we’re just platonic friends’ mission coming along? Already suffering from tendonitis?” Minho joked, throwing a peanut up into the air to catch it successfully with his mouth, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. He closed his legs a little when Jinki joined them and sat down in the empty chair next to Minho with a nod, his obligatory mug of soju in one hand.

The three of them probably looked quite pitiful to outsiders, sitting on the sidelines while everyone else either danced or made out. Taemin could have been one of those people – dancing around, sticking his tongue into a stranger’s mouth – but he didn’t want to. He had even declined the offer of a dance with a cute-looking foreign exchange student from Russia. She had nice tits; that’s all Taemin had taken away from their short conversation. He couldn’t even remember her face – not that it mattered, because there was only one face he wanted to look at and only one mouth he wanted to stick his tongue into, and that mouth was currently busy laughing at someone else’s joke.

“It’s coming along brilliantly. I’m down to only having to jack off once a day. It’s an improvement,” Taemin answered honestly, making Minho chortle and pat his shoulder empathetically while Jinki looked a little lost. 

“What are you two talking about?”

“Taemin’s sex life – or the lack of it,” Minho grinned, wincing when Taemin hit his knee.

Jinki merely nodded in response and leaned back in his seat, taking a long sip from his mug, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed the alcohol. “You are still having a crush on Jonghyun?” he asked in a monotone voice, and Taemin almost choked on his beer. 

“How do you know? Did you tell him?” Taemin asked Minho, appalled, wiping a few drops of the hoppy liquid from his lips.

“Oh, come on, Tae, everyone knows it by now. Even Kibum knows,” Minho uttered, pointing shortly at their flat-mate through the crowd of people separating them before he took and ate another peanut. “He even asked me about it a while ago.”

“And?” Taemin probed, not really sure if he wanted to know Kibum’s opinion on the matter. He was some kind of rival, after all. A rival? Were they still living in the 18th century and he had to challenge Kibum to a duel? 

“He thinks it’s cute. He described it as ‘puppy love.’”

Taemin raised one of his eyebrows, eyeing Minho doubtfully.

“Puppy love, really?”

“Yeah, the pair of you are like two puppies,” Minho nodded, pointing with a peanut in Jinki’s direction. He threw it up in the air and the older one darted forward to catch it with his mouth wide open, the two of them giving each other a triumphant high five.

What kind of dorks was he even living with? They were all older than him, and yet Taemin felt like he was the oldest sometimes.

“I agree. It’s cute to watch – you both look so innocent together,” Jinki uttered while chewing the peanut, the frown on Taemin’s face only deepening. 

“It’s the vanilla thing,” Minho clarified with a knowing nod when Taemin was about to object, his already open mouth shut with a peanut that the older one placed on his tongue. “There is really no shame in being vanilla. Not everyone can have as many kinks and fetishes as our friend over here,” Minho added and glanced at Jinki for a second, whose eyes widened noticeably. “Bro, my room is right next to yours. I hear things. And besides that – you know how Kibum is. He’s a complete chatterbox. He always tells me if he feels freaky, you’re the best choice. It’s always the nerdy ones who look all sunshine and smiles on the outside and are naughty as heck behind closed doors.” 

“Ming, I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to talk with you about my sex life,” came the instant reply, Jinki swaying his mug in one hand. Minho winked at him in return, bumping the little plastic bowl of peanuts against Jinki’s mug, as if he wanted to clink glasses. 

Taemin nibbled on his bottom lip, his eyes wandering back to Jonghyun and Kibum, who were still way too close to each other for his liking. He watched them talk and then dance for a while before they disappeared from the party together, Kibum leading the other out by holding his hand. Taemin’s heart sank. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to blend out the music and the voices around him.

It was not fair; life was just not fair. He wanted to be Kibum – to be the one taking Jonghyun by the hand to leave the party. They hadn’t done anything together since the night on the rooftop, which had been disturbed so inconsiderately by one of their flat-mates, and it bugged Taemin because he didn’t know how to initiate any conversation without appearing desperate.

“If you want a rebound fuck.”

Taemin was startled to feel Minho’s breath suddenly close to his ear, and he automatically leaned a little further away, looking at the other. To him the other was a book of seven seals. If Minho really had profound feelings for him, Taemin was sure that he wouldn’t always talk so casually about him being in love with Jonghyun. Maybe it was a mere infatuation? Or maybe Minho was a low-key version of Kibum and just wanted to check Taemin off from his ‘to fuck’ list, and the only difference between him and Kibum was their way of approaching people?

“I told you. Not in a million years,” he replied in a calm tone and took another sip from his beer. 

“Is it the wonky nose? The small dick? The pseudo-intellectual touch? The morbid outlook on life? I have really no idea what made you have sex with Jonghyun so willingly, while no matter what I do you are still as cold as Elsa from _Frozen_ ,” Minho summed up, sounding a little disappointed.

“You are trying too hard.” 

Taemin looked over at Jinki, who had been sitting silently next to them but now reached forward to grab some peanuts from the bowl in Minho’s hand, throwing them into his mouth and munching on them. 

“ _Am_ I trying too hard?” Minho asked then, turning his head towards Taemin, who felt a little overwhelmed with two sets of eyes observing him. 

“It’s not like that,” Taemin began cautiously, but was interrupted by Minho before he could finish his sentence.

“I should have taken the chance when we watched that boring horror movie, right? Ah, I knew it – I was too passive,” he uttered and hit his thigh, sounding like a coach analyzing the game play of his soccer team.

Taemin didn’t respond to Minho’s statement and took another sip of his beer instead, eyes wandering around the room. Without Jonghyun in the picture, this party looked even more boring than it had been before, and a sigh left his lips as he thought about what the other might be doing with Kibum right now. 

* * *

Taemin started from his sleep the next morning when he felt something heavy press on his stomach and heard a voice calling his name. Disoriented, he opened his eyes at the noise, intelligible sounds leaving his lips as he blinked several times, his eyesight adjusting to the sunlight shining through the window and into the room. 

Jonghyun was above him, hands drumming on Taemin’s stomach, his small butt nicely placed on Taemin’s crotch, and a childish grin playing on his lips. For a moment Taemin thought he was still asleep, and he was about to press his pelvis against the other’s bottom when Jonghyun repeated his name, his voice sounding too real and too close to be part of a wet dream.

“Taemin-ah, you need to wake up. I want to show you something.” 

The older one seemed way too agitated and Taemin’s system booted up slowly, the memory of Jonghyun leaving the party with Kibum the previous night making his stomach turn. Maybe he was in such a good mood because they had fucked again?

“What time is it?” he murmured, a soft groan leaving his lips as the other moved his butt a little to the left. He had no idea what Jonghyun was doing in his room, what he intended with this behavior, why he was suddenly being so close to him. Ever since Taemin’s confession, Jonghyun had avoided this kind of intimacy like the plague, and now he was sitting in Taemin’s lap in short black boxer-briefs and a loose white tank top, acting like this was how every morning started for them. 

“It’s past eleven already, so rise and shine,” Jonghyun answered impishly and raised his arms to emphasize. Taemin was half hard, he could feel it whenever Jonghyun shifted on top of him, and all he wanted to do was push the other away if he was only here to play around.

“I want to go back to sleep. It’s Saturday.” Taemin’s voice was no louder than a whisper, and he placed his arm over his eyes to block out the other’s figure.

“But I really want to show you.” A whine left Jonghyun’s mouth. “You’ll like it, I’m quite sure of it.” 

There was some poking against his tummy, and with a deep sigh Taemin tried to turn onto his side, wiggling back and forth until the other got up from his crotch and the pressure on his dick was gone.

“Show it to Kibum,” Taemin grumbled into the pillow and tried not to think of Jonghyun and Kibum together again. It was still too painful.

“He has already seen it. He was there when I got it last night.”

This sentence hurt more than Taemin wanted to admit and he huffed reluctantly, choosing not to respond. 

“You actually crossed my mind while getting it.”

Taemin pricked up his ears, the words catching his interest, but he only opened his eyes when he felt Jonghyun lie down next to him. He was eye-level with the other’s chest now, and one of Jonghyun’s hands pulled the thin fabric of his tank top up to his armpits, a silvery piercing instantly catching Taemin’s attention.

He blinked, and blinked again, thinking that he might be hallucinating, blood instantly rushing back to his cock and his synapses catching fire. No matter how often he closed and opened his eyes, the silver in Jonghyun’s left nipple remained; small metallic balls sitting on either side of the hardened tip, the skin around it reddened and a little swollen. 

“What the–?”

“Looks cool, right?” Jonghyun commented with a grin, looking down at himself. “It’s still very tender, but I’m already into it.”

The grin on Jonghyun’s lips widened, and Taemin gulped dryly as his focus switched back and forth between the other’s face and the prominent piercing that seemed to be calling out to him, telling him to reach out and touch it, the snake in the Garden of Eden, seducing Eve to taste the forbidden fruit. He had no idea why Jonghyun was in his bed or why he had felt the need to show him the newest addition to his body decorations in this rather straightforward way, but he was making it hard for Taemin’s drowsy mind to form a coherent thought. He couldn’t imagine that Jonghyun would enter Jinki’s or Minho’s room and jump onto their beds to show them his new piercing.

“How long does it take to heal?” he asked, to redirect his thoughts from the impurities that wandered around in his head like zombies looking for brains to eat, fingers rubbing his tired eyes and a yawn leaving his lips. 

“That depends on a lot of things, the piercer said. In some cases it only takes several weeks, in others up to a year. I hope I won’t end up in the latter category, though.”

Jonghyun slid down on the mattress until his head came to rest next to Taemin’s pillow, his face turned toward the younger one, his tank top still pulled up. They hadn’t been this close in weeks, and all Taemin wanted to do was lean forward and press his lips against the other’s, so he could finally taste him again, barely remembering the feel of Jonghyun’s mouth on his. 

“You should put a patch over it or something, so it doesn’t get irritated,” Taemin murmured and rested his head on his lower arms, fighting the urge to lean down and bite into Jonghyun’s piercing. It would probably cause the other a lot of pain, and for a split second Taemin thought that this was what Jonghyun deserved. 

“I wore one, but I took it off so I could show you.”

“Why?” 

It was a simple question, but it still made Jonghyun falter, hesitation visible in his features as he pulled his tank top down. 

“I just thought you’d like it,” he said in a gentle voice, and Taemin’s forehead turned into a frown, deep grooves carving themselves into his skin.

Had he missed something? The last time he checked, he and Jonghyun had gone back to being basic friends, without any benefits to speak of, due to Taemin thoughtlessly declaring his love in a weak moment. Did he by any chance wake up in an alternate universe, in which he and Jonghyun were actually a couple or at least dating? – _something_ that would make Jonghyun want to show off his new piercing to Taemin?

“Was I drugged during the party and fell into a comatose sleep, and in reality several years have already passed? Or is this _Back to the Future_ and I’ve woken up in an alternate reality?” 

Jonghyun knitted his brows. “What are you talking about?” he asked in confusion while Taemin brushed his tousled hair out of his face and checked the time and date on his phone. After determining that he hadn’t been in a coma, he lay down again, looking straight into Jonghyun’s face.

“Why does it matter if I like it or not? It’s not like you would allow me to actually _do_ something with it,” he noted quite frankly, too tired to beat around the bush and disregard the obvious lack of logic in Jonghyun’s statement. He sat up in bed with a grumble, attempting to get up when a hand closed around his wrist.

“Taemin-ah, wait.” Jonghyun’s tone was careful, as if he were trying not to cause any kind of misunderstanding with his words. In response, Taemin licked his lips and looked at the wall in front of him, feet touching the ground, his hands sitting at the edge of the mattress. 

“What for? A miracle?” Taemin wheezed, blowing a strand of black hair out of his face. He was worn-out, hungover, and wanted to be left alone.

“Sometimes you really sound like a brat.”

Hearing that, Taemin rolled his eyes and stood up, the grip on his wrist not loosening, causing him to stand next to the bed with his arm stretched in Jonghyun’s direction.

“Let go,” he whined when the other didn’t budge an inch, his wrist starting to hurt as the grip around it tightened. 

“Sit back down, please.”

“I don’t want to,” was his childish response, and Taemin tried to free himself yet again, feeling blood rush to his head now, sighing when Jonghyun showed no inclination of letting him go.

“Taemin, I think we should talk about this. I mean, _really_ talk this out.”

“What is the point in that now?” the younger one muttered, nibbling on his bottom lip as he kept on staring straight ahead, all the frustration he had suppressed for the past few weeks slowly bubbling up, reaching the edge of a barrel, about to overflow. They had both pretended that their conversation at the other apartment had never occurred, and Taemin didn’t see a reason to change that now. He had been heartbroken and embarrassed back then and didn’t need to relive that feeling as he still remembered it vividly. Taemin wasn’t one to talk about his feelings.

“Because you seem to have a problem with how things are. So, please sit down,” Jonghyun said in a calm but determined manner and patted the mattress.

“What do you even want to talk about?” Taemin asked, his voice growing a little louder and more irritated. “I like you. You like Kibum. Kibum doesn’t like you, but you two still fuck, whereas we don’t – there is nothing more to add,” he went off like sex was the only thing that mattered in their relationship and gestured around with his free hand, still not willing to turn around to actually look into the other’s eyes. 

“I think there actually is, Taemin. You forgot to mention that we stopped having sex because I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words made Taemin splutter in annoyance, and he rubbed his face with the palm of his left hand, shaking his head vigorously. His temples ached and he had a foul taste in his mouth, wanted to drink some water.

What kind of situation had he gotten himself into? He wasn’t made for confrontation, for discussions like these, because he didn’t know what to say. RPGs had the advantage of offering the player different dialogues to choose from to progress in the game, and Taemin wished real-life had different dialogue options as well, so he could choose the cleverest one and didn’t have to come up with his own. 

“You are such a good guy, Jonghyun – like – _wow_. I’m so thankful for you being so considerate of my feelings,” he declared sarcastically, then realized quickly that he might have chosen the wrong dialogue as he felt a dark part deep inside of him take over that deliberately wanted to hurt the other. “Remember when Kibum dated that girl not too long ago? She was hot, wasn’t she? Must have hurt when he favored her over you.”

He was cruel. He knew that. But there was no turning back now; the beast called jealousy was tearing at him with its fangs. Taemin felt the grip on his arm loosening in an instant, his hand falling to the side when Jonghyun let go of it.

“Now you are just being mean.” 

Hearing the bed creak, Taemin turned his head around to see the other stand up to step next to him, looking at him with disappointment and hurt written all over his face.

“It’s not mean – I just tried to explain you how I’m feeling,” Taemin argued, shoulders slouching. “The feeling you experienced during the time Kibum dated that girl, or all the times Kibum slept with someone other than you – it’s the exact same feeling I experience every single time you decide to disappear into his room, or he disappears into yours. It sucks, it hurts – it’s no fun – and the feeling doesn’t change whether we have sex or not. It will hurt either way,” he sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair. “And now you are acting like,” Taemin gestured around helplessly. “Like _this_ – and it only makes it harder. So, sorry.” He paused then before he shook his head. “No, actually I’m not sorry at all.”

Taemin saw the other bite his lip, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t really pinpoint. When Jonghyun didn’t say anything, Taemin went past him and opened the door, excusing himself before leaving for the toilet. He hoped Jonghyun would have left his room by the time he came back, but despite taking his time, the other was still there, standing in the exact same spot. 

“I’m sorry for my behavior just now – this was thoughtless of me,” Jonghyun said as Taemin closed the door behind himself and dried his hands on his t-shirt. 

Not knowing what to respond, Taemin said the first thing that came to his mind, which had nothing to do with the conversation they just had. It was a displacement activity like a dog licking its muzzle or paw when a human looked at its eyes for too long and it felt threatened.

“It suits you,” he mumbled awkwardly and walked over to open the window and let some fresh air inside, needing to feel the cold breeze on his heated skin.

Silence fell between them and Taemin felt uncomfortable, not really knowing what to do or say. It was unnatural for them not to talk when they were together. They always used to have something to say to one another, even if it was just random anime or game nonsense. 

Taemin cleared his throat and aligned some textbooks on his desk, needing to occupy himself with something to break the tension. They wouldn’t be in this situation if Taemin hadn’t confessed to Jonghyun; they wouldn’t be in this situation if Taemin hadn’t let himself be seduced by Jonghyun in the first place. It all led back to the mantra of not having sex where one ate and slept, something Taemin should have known before he slept with Jonghyun for the first time. If he was like Kibum, they wouldn’t have this problem; if Jonghyun and he were both more like Kibum – they’d _definitely_ not have this problem. 

“I envy Kibum,” he said eventually, fingertips running over the cover of one of his calculus books.

“Why?” 

“Isn’t that obvious?” Taemin turned around to look at the older one, a hard expression on his face. “He only needs to whistle and you run after him like a dog. He doesn’t treat you like he should, and yet you think so highly of him. You two have this really fucked-up relationship going on that no one understands, but apparently it works for you – so, _kudos_.” 

“I haven’t slept with him ever since he brought that girl home, if that’s what you are actually upset about – not even after he dumped her.” 

This confession came as a surprise and a slight frown showed on Taemin’s face. He already wanted to open his mouth to ask ‘Why?’ when the other continued speaking.

“Whenever he gets close I have to think about the things you said when we spent the night at the other unit. I thought your words wouldn’t affect me, but apparently they did,” he clarified and sat back down on the bed to stretch out his legs. “Thanks for that, I guess,” he added in an afterthought, supporting himself with both hands as he leaned back. 

There were many questions running through Taemin’s mind, but the most prominent of them was: why had Jonghyun only told him about this now? However, it was the one question he didn’t ask out loud.

“So you are not sleeping with Kibum anymore?” he assured himself instead, looking at Jonghyun warily, who shook his head, then sank onto the mattress. 

“No – not for the time being and _hopefully_ never again.” Jonghyun took a long, deep breath. “I really want to try this time and move on. _Really_. I’ll graduate in summer and I should concentrate on more important things. Love should be the last of my priorities right now. When I leave this place, I don’t want to take any emotional baggage with me. It’s not worth it.”

Jonghyun raised this arms over his head, his tank top riding up to his belly button, and Taemin gulped as he followed the patch of smooth skin down from the other’s navel to the waistband of his underwear, where his tattoo peeked out a little. 

“That sounds quite different from what you told me back in the other apartment.”

“I’m only human, Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun heaved a sigh. “Am I not allowed to change my opinion on things?”

“Of course you can,” Taemin replied quickly, adding a softer-spoken, “I just wish you’d changed your opinion about me.” 

Another sigh left Jonghyun’s lips and Taemin looked up as the other crossed his arms behind his head.

“You like me that much?” Jonghyun asked bluntly, glancing over at him.

Taemin wavered between rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the question and nodding his head vehemently. In the end he decided to answer with a simple “I do,” and pulled his swivel chair back to sit down on it. 

“Why though? What is there to like about me?”

The words stunned Taemin and he folded his hands in his lap, his thumb playing with his rosary ring, spinning it around his finger.

“I don’t know; I just do,” he shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

“You say you like me, but you don’t even know why?” 

A small laugh came from Jonghyun’s direction and Taemin’s lips formed a thin line, as he felt like his feelings were being ridiculed by the other. He liked him. Wasn’t that enough of an answer? 

“You could have at least said something along the lines of sex with me being an eye-opening experience for you – or something like that.”

This time Taemin did roll his eyes, not quite believing that he was really having such a conversation with the other. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet and could feel his tummy growling at him. Sometimes he really wondered why he had fallen in love with Jonghyun in the first place. ‘ _Is it the wonky nose? The small dick? The pseudo-intellectual touch? The morbid outlook on life?_ ’ he heard Minho’s voice in his head, whispering into his ear like the devil’s advocate.

“I could list dozens of things from off the top of my head if someone asked me what I like about you,” Jonghyun countered. 

Taemin scoffed and took a pencil from his desk to twirl between his fingers.

“Fire away, then,” he provoked. “There can’t be anything you actually like about me, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Jonghyun lifted himself up on his elbows and tilted his head as he looked over at Taemin with a smile. 

“One,” he began and lifted his forefinger. “The Bermuda triangle of moles on your face is absolutely adorable. Two – your lips are certainly a gift. The shape of your cupid’s bow? So unique – it’s cute. Three – I also really like your hands. We are both small in build, but when we held hands I always felt a head taller. That’s a nice feeling for a change,” Jonghyun continued with a grin, but the list of Taemin’s apparently charming points were making the younger one feel rather self-conscious instead of good about himself.

“Your cheeks are cute. You are a walking stick, but your cheeks look so squishy and well-fed. It makes you look so innocent. Same goes for your tummy. I live for it. I love how soft it is, and the sounds it produces when I press my ear against it. Please never grow out of it. Also –”

Taemin grimaced. “Stop, just stop.” He lifted his hands, making Jonghyun halt in his monologue. “Those are things that don’t make me to who I am at all. Do you only see me as a walking stick with chubby cheeks and a soft belly?”

It would have been a lie if Taemin hadn’t felt a little insulted at the thought of being reduced to mere superficialities, because he had strongly believed that there was more to him than that. Chubby cheeks and soft tummies could be found all over the world; it wasn’t something that made him special or unique.

“Of course not. Come over here,” Jonghyun requested, patting the mattress once again before he sat up and leaned against the wall at his back.

Jonghyun was like a spider threading its web, luring Taemin in to trap him. A little unwillingly, Taemin followed his wish and sat down on the bed, mimicking the other by leaning his back against the wall. 

“When you get shy, you have this really sweet smile on your face and your cheeks become this really cute pink. I think it’s so endearing – and when you get embarrassed, you always try to hide your face behind your hands, as if to pretend that no one can see you anymore if you’re doing that,” Jonghyun explained, holding his hands in front of his face to imitate the other. 

“I also find it incredibly sweet how you start to stutter or ramble nonsense when you are nervous, and blink repeatedly, how you are so passionate about the things you like, and that it’s so easy to talk with you about childish things without it feeling weird. It’s comfortable to spend time with you. It’s like meeting an old friend from middle school,” he continued while Taemin looked down at his hands, not quite sure where else he should look instead.

At this point he almost felt bad for having said ‘I have no idea’ when it came to things he liked about Jonghyun when the other was able to point out so many small details about him so easily, despite the fact that he wasn’t even in love with him. How could he be so good with words when all that ever left Taemin’s mouth was incoherent gibberish? 

If there were so many things about him that Jonghyun liked, what was he missing to turn that ‘like’ into ‘love’? Was it that certain spark that was missing in the equation – the one people always raved and told stories about? The one that had hit Taemin so powerfully that it made him think about Jonghyun constantly? Had Cupid’s arrow simply missed him and hit Taemin twice instead?

“Can you move over here?” 

When Taemin glanced up Jonghyun patted his legs, the gesture causing the younger one to cock his eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, a little taken aback when Jonghyun started to smile.

“Sit down in my lap. You rarely do that.”

“Because it makes me feel uncomfortable,” Taemin replied promptly, feeling the other’s hand on his thigh a second later, a pleasant tingling seeping through his skin and creeping up to his chest.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know.” 

He really didn’t know, but the position made him feel like all spotlights were on him, waiting for him to do something, expecting him to be active and somewhat seductive. This role simply didn’t suit him. It felt more embarrassing and exposing than sensual. Taemin was the puppet, not the puppet master – the one whose strings were pulled, not the one who pulled them. 

“Fair enough,” Jonghyun gave in, turning to his side to lie down instead, his head nestling in Taemin’s lap. 

“You smell nice. It’s not like you wear cologne or anything like that – it’s your natural scent. I envy that, to be honest. You somehow smell like baby powder and like home; the good things in life. I might be willing to go as far as to say that I’ve never met anyone who smelled as good as you.”

Jonghyun continued his list naturally, as if he really planned on finishing it with his proposed ‘dozens of things’ he liked about Taemin.

“This all sounds like you actually like me,” Taemin sighed in frustration, letting his head sink against the wall, hating himself for not being born as Kibum. He smelled good, apparently even better than Kibum did; wasn’t that enough? Weren’t people naturally attracted to people whose scent they liked? Wasn’t it something that was programmed into their genetic code to find the most compatible partner for them – something they couldn’t do anything about? Taemin was sure that he had watched a documentary about this topic before. Maybe he should look it up and show it to Jonghyun as some kind of hint. 

“I never said I _don’t_ like you, Taemin-ah. In fact, I like you a lot, just not in the way you want me to, I guess. Besides, I’ve said this before, but you don’t seem to believe me. I’m not good for you in any way, Taemin.”

“What made you decide that you are not good for me? I mean – are you me? Are you a mind-reader? Do you have any psychic powers you haven’t told me about yet?” 

Taemin was upset, feeling like he was being treated unfairly by Jonghyun. It seemed that all decisions were made for him before he had any say in it. Wasn’t he old enough to decide who was and who wasn’t good for him on his own?

“Taemin, you are still young and –”

“What does this have to do with my age? It’s not like I’m 15! I’m turning 20 in a few months. You didn’t even give me a chance to –”

“Woo me? Persuade me? Make me fall in love with you?” 

It was a quick exchange of words, both of them interrupting the other to get their point across. Taemin had always hated it when people had cut him off, making him feel like the things he had to say weren’t important enough to be listened to till the end.

“This is just so damn frustrating,” Taemin finally said in defeat and tousled his hair, his gaze lowered and his head aching. 

“It is,” Jonghyun agreed and both of them went quiet, Taemin pulling at some hair on his shins. 

“Okay,” the older one said all of a sudden, turning toward Taemin. “What do you want, Taemin?”

“What do I want?” Taemin asked, puzzled, not completely following the other’s change of course.

“Yes, what do you want – right now – in this very moment?” he specified, tapping his thigh in the rhythm of his words. 

“Why does it matter?” the younger one responded unenthusiastically, another sigh leaving his lips as he looked at Jonghyun’s legs, covered in bruises just like his own. 

“Just tell me,” Jonghyun prompted insistently.

“Honestly?

“Honestly.”

Taemin hesitated, eyes wandering along Jonghyun’s hairy legs, lingering on the tiny scar on his left knee from a skateboard accident when the other had been 12. His eyes strolled further up until they reached the hem of Jonghyun’s boxers. The outline of his dick was visible underneath the thin fabric, and the thought of what was hidden behind the black boxers made Taemin’s loins throb. 

“Honestly?” He repeated again and didn’t want to avert his eyes when he heard a low chuckle.

“Honestly,” came the prompt reply, and Taemin felt his palms start to get sweaty.   
“I just want to have sex with you right now,” he finally admitted in a tiny voice, looking up when the other’s laugh grew louder.

“Really? All you can think of after that talk is sex?” Jonghyun inquired and, to Taemin’s surprise, pulled his tank top over his head, throwing it to the floor. Taemin gulped when his gaze fell on the newly added piercing in Jonghyun’s nipple, his dick twitching in his boxer shorts. Why did it feel so wrong to look at the other like this? 

“What are you doing?” Taemin wondered, slightly nervous, his eyes widening when Jonghyun lifted his hips to pull down his boxers, his dick reacting immediately at the sight. 

“What does it look like to you?” Jonghyun wanted to know. “I’m taking off my clothes, and you should do so as well – unless you want to have sex with me while dressed,” he explained calmly, as if it was the most normal thing to jump immediately at someone’s wish to have sex with him.

“I just don’t get you anymore,” Taemin whispered, his voice sounding strained. He pushed his legs together tightly, arms hugging his knees.

“It’s quite simple. All I hear is you complaining about me never giving you any chances – so here you go. I’m giving you a chance – so make me fall in love with you,” Jonghyun summed up casually, reaching out with one hand to tug at the hem of Taemin’s t-shirt, the other wandering down to his crotch to stroke himself lazily. 

“You can’t make someone fall in love just with sex,” Taemin huffed, for some unknown reason wishing for Jonghyun to put his clothes back on again, because his eyes were magically drawn to the movements of Jonghyun’s hand and he could feel himself getting hard.

“The release of endorphins can do a lot of things.”

With that, Jonghyun got up on his knees and skidded closer, gently pulling Taemin’s hands away from his knees and scrambling into his lap. Taemin felt conquered before Jonghyun had even done anything. The older one didn’t settle down completely, hovering over Taemin’s crotch, his chest occupying his field of vision. He hadn’t seen Jonghyun like this in so many weeks, but now that he was about to get what he had craved, he didn’t want it anymore. The feeling just wasn’t right. Taemin wanted Jonghyun to want him just as much as he wanted the other; he didn’t want to feel like they were about to have some kind of pity fuck, a gift to a single on Valentine’s Day. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?” 

“Well, I’m not appalled by the idea,” Jonghyun shrugged nonchalantly, fingertips gliding through Taemin’s hair. 

“That wasn’t my question,” Taemin groaned and licked his lips as Jonghyun’s fingers caressed the shells of his ears, every touch causing a new fire to break out on his skin. 

“You know that I’ve always enjoyed having sex with you. The reason why we stopped wasn’t because I didn’t like it,” Jonghyun made clear, hands wandering over Taemin’s cheeks to his neck, stroking down his t-shirt till they reached the hem of it.

“You never think of me while jerking off, do you?” Taemin asked, as if the answer to that question was of any importance, and lifted his arms on autopilot when Jonghyun tugged at his tee, a throaty snicker leaving the other’s lips.

“No, I don’t, but if it’s any comfort to you, I don’t think of anyone I personally know while masturbating. It’s always a celebrity of some sort; some hot model, musician, or actor – or two – depending on my mood.”

“You are truly a slut.” 

The reply was meant to be a joke, something that had slipped out of his mouth without giving it any thought, but Taemin saw the other stiffen at the word as he pulled Taemin’s t-shirt over his head, the other one holding onto the fabric.

“That’s rude,” Jonghyun mumbled, sounding unhappy as he threw the piece of clothing aside, his hands coming to rest on Taemin’s shoulders. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Taemin reassured, his hands moving forward to stroke Jonghyun’s thighs.

He wanted to kiss him so badly, wanted to run his tongue over his chest and sink his teeth into his nipples, but he didn’t. Instead of acting on impulse and helping his dick get what it craved for, Taemin sat passively on the bed, looking up at Jonghyun and wondering what exactly they were doing here. It felt like a game he could only lose because he hadn’t reached the required level to pass the stage yet.

“Do you have a current favorite you like to think about?” 

Jonghyun didn’t even think about it for a second before the name ‘Gong Yoo’ fell from his lips, his fingers massaging Taemin’s neck in a circular motion, leaving him boneless.

“He’s incredibly attractive. I’m quite sure he’s very good in bed. He just looks like he would be,” Jonghyun speculated, making Taemin’s forehead crease. The Korean actor was indeed attractive, but if the older one liked this type, why did he waste his time on guys like Taemin and Kibum? They didn’t resemble him in the slightest. Wouldn’t tall, athletic Minho or muscular, handsome Jinki be better choices?

“So this is the type of guy you like? Neither Kibum nor I have anything in common with him.”

Speaking his thoughts aloud unleashed a fit of laughter, Jonghyun’s head coming closer until his forehead could rest on Taemin’s shoulder, the other’s breath tickling his skin.

“Oh Taeminnie,” he began, slowly calming down, one hand running softly over Taemin’s cheek while the other held onto his shoulder. “Ideal types are just ideal types. There is not a specific visual aspect in men I feel attracted to. It’s more about the way they carry themselves. Confidence is key. I like it when men know what they want in _life_ – and in _bed_. It’s an admirable feature, don’t you think?” 

Probably without realizing it, Jonghyun had kicked Taemin right in the balls. Awkward, introverted Taemin who only ever felt confident when he was surrounded by people he felt comfortable with, who had no idea what to do with his life after graduation, who didn’t even know what he wanted to eat for dinner, let alone for lunch. All of a sudden it became clear to him why Jonghyun had been so interested in Kibum – Kim Kibum, who had the word ‘CONFIDENCE’ written in capital letters all over his forehead. Be it natural or trained confidence, it didn’t matter, but Taemin had never met another person in his life who carried himself with so much poise, every step a portrayal of his superiority. 

“You know what?” Taemin said, both hands wandering over to hold onto Jonghyun’s hips. “I’m not in the mood right now. I’m going to take a shower.”

After pushing the other gently off him, Taemin slid from the bed and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling it back over his head hastily to try and cover his hard-on before walking toward his wardrobe to grab his towels. 

“You are kidding, right?”

Jonghyun still knelt on the bed, legs spread and both hands on his thighs. He looked so tempting that Taemin had a hard time taking his eyes off him, clenching his fingers around his white towels. 

“No, I am not,” he clarified, trying to sound confident even though he felt very small and like a complete loser who didn’t deserve to be in the same room as Jonghyun. “I’m just too tired for this right now. Do I want to have sex with you? Yes, quite badly, actually,” Taemin admitted, trying to keep his eyes above chest level for once while looking at Jonghyun. “But do I want a pity fuck, because you happen to not have anything else to do right now? No, most definitely not,” he spoke up and felt his heart race in his chest when he had finished.

Not giving the other the chance to reply, he stepped to the door and reached out for the handle, pressing it down and opening the door before he turned around for one last time. “You know, I might have already lost most of my dignity when it comes to you, but please – just please let me keep the miserable little rest of it.” 

Taemin pressed his hand against his chest when he had closed the door behind him and heard his own heartbeat in his ears, not quite believing that he had spoken so openly to the other. Shocked, he looked up when he heard someone clap and saw Minho standing in front of the sinks in their open bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth and his hands making the clapping sound. 

“Finally! You got some balls after all. I salute you,” Minho mumbled, foam covering his mouth, the older one bowing his head and lifting a non-existent hat. 

“You – heard _that_?” Taemin almost stammered, feeling his cheeks heat up. This was awkward.

“Loud and clear. Didn’t know our little fluff ball had a thing for Gong Yoo, though. You never stop learning about your flat-mates, I guess,” he nodded and spit the foam into the sink, rinsing out his mouth beneath the faucet.

Damned be the thinness of the walls in their dorm, making everything in their unit audible unless it was a whisper. 

“Sorry about that,” Taemin mumbled as he quickly passed Minho on his way to the showers and pulled the curtain closed, which served as a separation between the showers and the sinks, his hands landing on his face a second later. He was already embarrassed for talking like that to Jonghyun, but knowing that Minho had heard their conversation was even worse. He stripped quickly out of his clothes and stepped into the first cabin, hearing a door – probably his – open soon after. 

“Gong Yoo, huh?”

He could hear Minho’s voice as he turned on the shower, jumping to the side with a low hiss when cold water started pelting onto him.

“Eavesdropping much?” 

That was Jonghyun’s voice. Taemin turned on the hot water tap, carefully testing the temperature with his fingers.

“From me to you – can you please stop playing around with him? Don’t get his hopes up by acting the way you do if you have no good intentions.”

“First of all – I know that you are his knight in shining armor, but this is none of your business. This is just between Taemin and me. Secondly – I don’t play around with him. He was the one –” Jonghyun halted for a second before Taemin heard him take a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter now. It must feel weird for Taemin if we’re talking about him when he’s literally right there. Right, Taemin-ah?” 

Taemin squinted his eyes and bit his bottom lip. He had hoped they would simply ignore his existence, but apparently he wasn’t that lucky. He heard steps coming closer and winced when the slide door to his shower was suddenly pulled open and Jonghyun’s head appeared behind it. He stared at the other and blinked before his hands flew down to cover his crotch, as Minho craned his neck to take a look as well.

“Yah, what’s wrong with you two? I’m showering!” he yelled at them, turning a little to the side. 

“What are you trying to hide? I’ve already seen you naked.” 

“But Minho hasn’t.”

“Which is quite unfortunate,” Minho threw in, causing Taemin to stamp his foot.

“OUT!” he screamed, trying to push Jonghyun out by pressing his index finger against the other’s forehead.

What was wrong today? Everyone seemed to have gone crazy overnight. Were their heads still filled with alcohol? Had there been something in the water?

“Okay, okay,” Jonghyun responded in a peaceful tone, reassuringly lifting his hands. In the next second the door was closed again and Taemin was left alone beneath the showerhead.

He took a long breath and turned his back to the door, letting the water fall onto his face, trying to block out his flat-mates’ voices outside. Maybe he should just go back to bed and forget about this morning, about the humiliation he’d endured. Maybe it would be nice to just cross out this day from his memory and pretend it had never happened.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is Taemin's day! Please, [watch Taemin's new MV!!!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFQL7BS6lrs&ab_channel=SMTOWN) Happy Taemin Day everyone! Let's celebrate it with some JongTae fic! lmao I love how the lyrics to Criminal apply to JongTae's dynamic in this fic. :') _I know well that you're bad for me, your eyes and the way you move. I try to get away from you, but being brainwashed, all I can do is nod._ (certainly a mood)  
> I wonder how many writers will turn this song into a fic! Looking forward to it! 
> 
> Here is chapter 5! Thanks to the people who left comments and sent me messages <3 I hope you will like the new chapter. ^^

Taemin was still wide awake at midnight, blankly staring at the ceiling as he lay in bed in his moonlit room, too lazy to close the curtains and turn the world around him dark. He had only left his self-proclaimed exile to grab something to eat and for visits to the toilet, the rest of the day spent in pitying himself and falling into a spiral of despair. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything; not on his studies, not on any computer games, not on any movie he had tried to watch, his thoughts still revolving around the pointless argument he had fought out with Jonghyun in the morning. Still seeing his naked body sitting on the bed in front of him, still wondering why he hadn’t given in and let himself be seduced by this minx that had appeared in the form of _his_ Jonghyun.

Jonghyun appeared to be awake as well, as Taemin could see light shining from the other’s window as he reclined his head. A frustrated sigh left his lips and he rubbed his face, feet kicking against the mattress. Why was all of this so complicated? Was it too much to ask to be seen as a grownup by the man he _loved_? Was it too much to ask for them to be together? Weren’t relationships with men supposed to be easier because less sentimentalism was involved?

One of the reasons Taemin had always struggled with keeping relationships alive in the past was that he lost interest too quickly, or he felt trapped, like a tiger caught in the wild, when girlfriends became too clingy. Back then he had preferred to spend his free time hanging out with Jongin and playing video games, despite being in a relationship, not understanding why that was a problem for any of his girlfriends. But now that he wasn’t the priority for someone and had to live with what was offered to him, he was slowly beginning to see their point. Maybe karma had come around to bite him in the butt. It hurt to be treated like a remaindered book which was sold cheaper than the rest. _Maybe_ Taemin should have spent more time with his girlfriends; _maybe_ they would have liked gaming as well, and _maybe_ he would still be together with his ex if he had put more effort into their relationship.

Not that it mattered now.

The past was the past and the present was the present, and yet all his problems were the same. Taemin wished for his libido to die a cruel death alongside his feelings for Jonghyun.

When his phone started vibrating on the desk, he looked up to find the display brightly illuminated with the arrival of a new text. Leaning over with a sigh, he reached for it and checked the message. Four words revealed themselves, which formed a simple question and made the walls around him crumble.

 _‘Can I come over?’_

Had he breathed too loudly? Had his feet kicking been too loud? Heart pounding like mad, Taemin’s fingers hovered over the screen, not sure what to reply or if he should reply at all.

A dilemma.

_‘Please?’_

Rubbing his temple to find answers to questions he had never asked himself, Taemin replied to Jonghyun’s messages with a mere three dots. Placing his phone back on his desk afterward, he hoped that the dots would convey everything he wanted to say and would grow into words he hadn’t said out loud. He wasn’t sure if he had expected the other to show up in his room no matter the response, but he wasn’t surprised when Jonghyun knocked on his door less than a minute later and entered without Taemin inviting him in.

“I can’t sleep,” Jonghyun spoke softly into the darkness, only his silhouette visible in Taemin's small dark cave.

“Me neither,” Taemin confessed and listened closely as naked feet crossed the floor until his mattress drooped under the weight of another person.

“I feel like all I’m saying to you lately is ‘I’m sorry’, but I really am. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. That was childish and insensitive, and you don’t deserve that,” Jonghyun began to apologize, fingers twiddling with Taemin’s blanket. “It was never my intention to make you feel bad about yourself. It really wasn’t. I just don’t like myself at the moment – and I’m sorry that I took this out on you.” 

Still lying motionlessly on his bed, Taemin gazed at the ceiling, trying to decipher Jonghyun’s words and the meaning behind them. Was there even a need for that? Was it necessary to understand someone’s every action? If he was sorry, wasn’t that enough?

Taemin had never been the resentful type. They were all just humans, and humans sinned and consistently made mistakes, whether intentional or not. He lived by the words _‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you’_ written in Ephesians 4:32, and Taemin reminded himself of them whenever he felt resentment toward someone. Jonghyun had apologized for his behavior, and that was all Taemin needed to hear from him. He might not forget, but he certainly could forgive. _Forgiveness is one of the most valuable virtues,_ his father used to tell him all the time. 

“Let’s just pretend that yesterday never happened, okay?” Taemin replied quietly and glanced over at the other when he felt him move. Jonghyun’s face lay in shadow, and a soft nod made his eyes shine in the moonlight. 

“Can I – I mean, is it okay if I hug you?” Jonghyun’s voice sounded way softer than it had in the morning, every ounce of authority swinging in his tone – _gone_. Taemin inched further toward the wall and lifted the corner of his blanket, his body feeling tense and his fingers tingly. He would never be able to turn Jonghyun away – even if he wanted to. It was impossible. His body reacted to Jonghyun like a phone plugged into a charger; he revitalized him, filled his heart with life.

“Come here.”

Jonghyun was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, Taemin noticed when the other slipped beneath the blanket and naturally reached out to place one arm around Taemin’s waist. The younger one turned onto his side to face the wall, letting himself be pulled closer to Jonghyun’s body until he was firmly pressed against his chest, feeling the other’s crotch against his butt, breath hitching in his throat and need pulling deep inside his stomach. 

“I miss that.”

Warm breath ghosted over Taemin’s skin as Jonghyun’s hand slid beneath his t-shirt to hold him, and Taemin’s eyes fell shut as he drowned in the subtle touch, wanting Jonghyun to bury his fingers in his intestines, squeeze them, and never let go of him again. 

“What do you mean?” Taemin asked in a whisper, afraid that speaking any louder would break the spell and wake him up from this sweet dream. 

The hold on him tightened, making Taemin’s cheeks heat up. “Hugging you like this; touching you,” Jonghyun murmured with a sigh. The tip of his cold nose stroked along Taemin’s nape and his skin prickled under the sensation, his fingers clawing into the bedsheets. Is this what friends told each other under the covers when fox and bear had bid each other goodnight and the world was hugged by a warm blanket of discretion to conceal its secrets?

“Don’t say things like that.” It would only awake false hope, only lead to him falling deeper, and Taemin had no idea how long it would take for him to hit the ground and split in two.

A gentle kiss was pressed beneath his ear and a low hum left Jonghyun’s lips, the room around them going silent while Taemin’s own heartbeat drummed in his ears, loud and unnerving. Snuggling in bed with Jonghyun reminded him of simpler times: times when they had fooled around to give each other pleasure, make each other laugh; times when Taemin hadn’t been in love with Jonghyun yet. Times when it hadn’t mattered to him that Jonghyun wasn’t in love with him, when it hadn’t mattered that they didn’t belong to one another.

They had only fallen asleep next to each other once, and yet Taemin felt a bizarre familiarity he hadn’t experienced with anyone before. It felt like they were meant to be; two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. If only Jonghyun could see that too, instead of trying to carve his puzzle piece into something that would fit Kibum’s. Fingertips gently caressed Taemin’s tummy, and he was slowly lulled to sleep by the sound of Jonghyun’s steady breathing, his thoughts temporarily forgotten, his sleep dreamless, deep, and – _short_.

When Taemin woke the moon was still up and Jonghyun’s head was pressed against his chest, his leg hugging the older one’s waist as if he didn’t want to let him go, too afraid that he would leave him again. It was the cold that had wakened him, goosebumps covering his body, and Taemin lazily opened tired eyes to find that the blanket had been pushed down to the end of the bed

Jonghyun was sound asleep, the hood of his sweater pulled over his head and his arms holding Taemin close. Taemin’s body felt sore from sleeping the way he had, bones cracking when he tried to angle for the blanket with his feet in an attempt not to wake the other up. His mission quickly proved unsuccessful, as he didn’t manage to grab the blanket with his feet nor did Jonghyun stay asleep.

“What’s wrong?” Jonghyun mumbled drowsily, his syllables slurred and his head shifting, Taemin’s heart melting at the sight.

“I just wanted to grab the blanket. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up,” Taemin replied hastily, gaining the other’s immediate attention. 

Jonghyun muttered a silent _‘Oh’_ and lifted his head, one hand reaching over to turn on Taemin’s desk lamp, and Taemin shielded his eyes as the fluorescent light let their surroundings flare-up in glaring colors, the intimacy the layer of darkness had created in his little hideout gone immediately. When the blanket caught Jonghyun’s eyes he sat up and grabbed it, causing Taemin’s leg to slip off his hip, but after tucking them back in, he demonstratively took Taemin’s leg to place above him again, running his hand along the small of Taemin’s back to pull him close.

With their bodies pressed together tightly, it was impossible to overlook that both of them were hard; their dicks being in nightly testing mode. Taemin gulped when Jonghyun’s hand stayed on his lower back, short fingernails drawing undefined patterns on his skin, his body quivering beneath the touch. Just like the neck was one of Jonghyun’s weaknesses, one of Taemin’s was his lower back, every touch there feeling far more intense than anywhere else on his body, sending pleasant shivers running up to the tips of his hair and down to his toes.

“There are reflex points on the left and right side of your sacral bone, did you know that? Lots of nerve paths run along there. That’s why it feels so nice to get touched there,” Jonghyun explained in a small voice, his fingers almost dancing over the skin. Taemin’s pelvis automatically jerked forward, feeling the other’s crotch more directly that way, and heat rushed to his face. This felt far more real than any of his daydreams.

“Did Kibum tell you that?” he wondered, sounding a little virulent, his eyes closing as Jonghyun’s index and middle finger started to rub little circles into his lower back, excitement shooting up to his brain and down to his cock. All he received in reply was a hum before he felt the other’s fingers move downwards, sneaking beneath the elastic of his boxers to grab one of his butt cheeks in a firm grip, the warmth on Taemin’s face spreading to his ears and the tingling in his stomach almost unbearable. He frowned instinctively, trying to suppress the pleasure rising inside of him as he wasn’t sure how to interpret the gesture.

“Jonghyun, what are you doing right now?” he asked.

It was an obvious question, a question that had hovered at the tip of Taemin’s tongue ever since Jonghyun had come into his room. The hold on his butt loosened and he felt Jonghyun move away from him and exhale loudly.

“I – I honestly don’t know. Do you want me to stop?”

 _Did_ he want him to stop?

The logical part of Taemin screamed _‘Yes, don’t make it harder for me!’_ , but that sentiment never got the chance to reach his mouth as his head was quicker and shot forward, hands coming up to hold the other’s cheeks, pulling Jonghyun as close as possible as Taemin’s lips found their way onto a pair of cold, chapped ones.

The sensation was painfully overwhelming. He had missed the feeling so much, had missed kissing the other, had missed the little gasps that left Jonghyun’s lips in-between and the little tricks of his tongue that made Taemin’s stomach flip.

“This is so fucked up,” Jonghyun muttered between kisses. Taemin rolled them over so he was on top, pelvis rolling in a flowing motion against the older one’s, and another soft moan left Jonghyun’s lips, a sound Taemin had craved to hear and wanted to elicit over and over again; the only sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“I shouldn’t be doing this with you, Tae.” Jonghyun seemed to be fighting an inner battle with himself as he lay beneath him, but Taemin didn’t want to hear any of it. Didn’t want to think, didn’t want to speak, just wanted to feel, and taste, wanted to continue the journey they had started.

“Then don’t do anything and just let _me_ do this with _you_ ,” came the murmured response, Taemin’s mind already intoxicated by the buzz of kissing and touching the other again. How long had it been? It felt like they had kissed for the last time in another lifetime, every kiss as exciting as their first. 

“Are you sure about this?”

Taemin sank his teeth into the other’s neck as an answer, Jonghyun’s body pressing up against him with a groan. His legs were on either side of Jonghyun’s hips, and he let his pelvis circle over the other’s crotch, hands disappearing beneath the oversized hoodie, stroking smooth, warm skin. Jonghyun sat up as Taemin pushed up his hoodie, the older one lifting his arms so it was easier to take off. Apparently Jonghyun had made up his mind, not trying to fight against it anymore but easing into the moment, cooperating, initiating. 

“Now you are in my lap after all.” Jonghyun’s tone was mischievous as he leaned forward to Taemin’s ear, both hands on the other’s cheeks once the younger had tossed his sweater aside.

“Lucky you, I guess,” Taemin tried to sound cunning, thumb stroking along the small reddish dent in the other’s chin. None of the wounds Jonghyun had inflicted on him in the past few months were visible to the untrained eye, but the one wound Taemin had given him would always be obvious to everyone and stay as a reminder on his chin. Ironic how these things worked.

Almost in a frenzy, Taemin pulled his t-shirt over his head, struggling with the neckline, craving the skin contact, needing it, hands gliding over Jonghyun’s shoulders and up to his neck after, fingertips digging into him, feeling his pulse; strong and stable, hypnotizing. There was an undefinable murmur before he felt Jonghyun’s lips on his collarbone, kissing him, sucking on his skin, tongue gliding up to his jaw, and a tremor ran down his spine, so intense that Taemin felt like throwing his head back, wanting to create more room.

The whole experience was electrifying and almost felt like a hallucination, Taemin waiting for the moment he would wake up and realize that he was alone in his bed and not sitting half-naked in Jonghyun’s lap. But this moment never came and the hungry kisses he shared with Jonghyun were real, and so were the nips and bites on his bottom lip, the prickling on his tongue when it brushed against the other’s, the arousing sensation of hands gliding down his back to disappear in his boxers, the fingers stroking down his cleft to open him up a bit, making him feel vulnerable and yet so safe. All of this was real and made Taemin’s head spin, his lips desperately searching for Jonghyun’s over and over again, not wanting to let go even when the other tried to help him out of his underwear.

“Tae,” Jonghyun started with a smile, purring in the back of his throat as said one licked his upper lip with the very tip of his tongue. “I mean, I approve of –” The older halted again as Taemin’s teeth nipped on his bottom lip, pulling at it. “Approve of your – newly found enthusiasm when – when it comes to kissing –” The rest of the sentence got caught in his throat as Taemin pressed his mouth onto Jonghyun’s, fingernails scraping along the short hair at his nape, smothering a chuckle. 

“Please –” Another kiss. “Just stop talking; there is a lot I’ve bottled-up in the past few weeks,” Taemin crooned against his lips as he awkwardly tried to get rid of his underwear himself without breaking contact with Jonghyun. It wasn’t an easy task, and in the end he had to give up on it and stood up from the bed with a huff, hastily pushing his boxers down to step out of them, and then climbed back into Jonghyun’s lap, rubbing his erection against the other’s abs, reveling in the friction, his lips finding their way back to what felt like his second home, his sanctuary, precum dripping onto Jonghyun’s skin.

“Tae – whatever – we are doing right now – please don’t – don’t get your hopes up – I –”

“Not now,” Taemin interrupted again, not in the mood for talking, discussing, or arguing. There were so many things better than talking. He rarely spoke up against Jonghyun – which was his fault – so it didn’t surprise him that the older one seemed rather flabbergasted by this response.

Taemin leaned back to open the lower drawer of his desk and feel for the lubrication and the package of condoms, finding them almost immediately, the utensils lying abandoned and forgotten in the back of the drawer before they landed next to him on the mattress. He wanted to be in Jonghyun, he wanted Jonghyun inside of him, his mind a scattered place, his skin on fire, want pulling at him, not letting him think clearly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he mouthed as he edged closer to Jonghyun’s ear, fingers stroking along the other’s upper arms, feeling him flex his biceps beneath him. He could easily choke the younger with them, and Taemin would let him gladly.

“I don’t see a problem with that,” came the prompt reply, Taemin’s forehead sinking onto Jonghyun’s shoulder, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he nuzzled his neck and breathed him in deeply.

“But I also really want to fuck you,” he mumbled into Jonghyun’s collarbone, sounding almost delirious, nipping at the skin, wanting to taste and feel and smell and listen and see, all his senses focused on Jonghyun, trying to make up for lost time, trying to memorize all the little details he had forgotten. 

There was an amused chuckle and the younger man felt Jonghyun’s chest vibrate, hands roaming his lower back.

“That needy?”

“ _Yes_.” Taemin was unable to lie or act cocky, his body too fixated on sating neglected needs, his head and dick throbbing, yearning palpable in his belly as his hands wandered along the other’s skin, wanting to crawl inside of it.

Everything happened in a blur, and before Taemin had the chance to grasp the situation fully, he was already kneeling above Jonghyun, his head between the other’s spread legs, his butt pulled down by two hands, three fingers moving in and out of him, plush lips engulfing his erection while his own mouth was busy sucking on Jonghyun’s cock; logic and reason completely thrown overboard, Noah’s ark leaving without him, Sodom and Gomorrah reigning in Taemin’s head. His hands embraced the other’s bottom half, fingers playing around with his entrance, slipping inside with a wet sound, teasing him, persuading him, drowning in him.

Taemin wasn’t the biggest advocate of this position since he couldn’t fully enjoy what Jonghyun did to him, although it allowed them to prep each other effortlessly at the same time, like a pit crew that worked simultaneously on a car to let it rejoin the race more quickly. The room was filled with obscene sucking and slurping noises that could have been taken out of a third-class porno film, Jonghyun’s moans vibrating nicely against Taemin’s cock and a sweet tingling spreading in the younger one’s abdomen. Sliding his tongue flatly against the tip of Jonghyun’s erection and snaking around it, Taemin tried to focus. Jonghyun seemed to be enjoying this interlude way more than the younger was, spreading his legs further and further, bucking his hips up, little vulgarities falling from his mouth that spurred Taemin on. Listening to the other’s strained voice was a greater stimulation to Taemin than the fingers inside of him or the other’s lips around him, every word from Jonghyun’s lips sounding like a spell, bewitching him. 

When Taemin couldn’t take it anymore, he let go to turn around and leaned down to kiss Jonghyun while fumbling with the wrapping of a condom.

“You are so needy,” Jonghyun mumbled when Taemin sat back to roll the condom down the other’s dick and coat it in more lube than was probably necessary, his fingers trembling, the whole scenario feeling like his first time with Jonghyun all over again.

“I’m just sex-deprived.” 

“How come?”

Jonghyun’s hands held onto his sides as Taemin lifted himself and held onto the base of the other’s cock, guiding the head to his entrance.

“Do you really need an answer to that?” Taemin’s voice caught in his throat as he carefully settled down, first the glans opening him up before he filled himself little by little, the fingers of his free hand clawing into Jonghyun’s torso, the strain unpleasant and yet everything Taemin wanted and needed right now. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed through clenched teeth, head falling to his chest, his pelvis trying to adjust, his breathing stuttering. “It’s been a while,” he muttered as he sank further and let go of the other’s cock. It wasn’t a particularly painful feeling but an unfamiliar one, the sudden stretch something he had to get accustomed to again.

“Just go slow,” Jonghyun remarked as he caressed Taemin’s back, soothing the tension in his body. The times Taemin had been on top of Jonghyun while bottoming, he could count on one hand – on one finger, to be precise. Throughout the months it had only happened once, and Taemin had decided that it wasn’t for him after just a minute before he had asked Jonghyun to switch positions again, Jonghyun jokingly calling him a ‘pillow prince’ when he ended up on his back. So how Taemin had willingly ended up hovering above Jonghyun’s crotch was a mystery to him. Maybe he wanted to be in control so he could savor the experience in all its facets, or he just wanted to do it because he knew Jonghyun loved watching him like this. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

“Can – can you sit up?” Taemin asked as some kind of compromise when he was fully seated, getting slowly used to the feeling of fullness in his body.

“Sure.”

When Jonghyun lifted his upper body Taemin sank deeper into his lap, a quiet moan falling from his parted lips as he held onto Jonghyun’s shoulders, cheek resting against the other’s temple. Jonghyun embraced him with both arms when he started to move, very unhurried at first, not lifting his pelvis but rather circling it around, spreading lube, feeling himself – feeling _Jonghyun_. 

Taemin wanted to tell Jonghyun that he loved him and cared for him - maybe cared too much - that he wanted to be with him, that he didn’t want Jonghyun to look at others or sleep with others anymore. He wanted to say so much, but he didn’t say any of it as the other ran his tongue along Taemin’s neck and nipped at his collarbones, his hands diving through Jonghyun’s messy hair. Jonghyun always used the same cologne, the distinct, familiar smell reaching Taemin’s nostrils as the other pressed small kisses along his temple and cheek, small beads of sweat wetting his lips. Jonghyun stroked a strand of hair out of Taemin’s face before letting his hand glide down his neck and to his chest, his thumb teasing the younger one’s hardened nipples.

A little bashful, Taemin lowered his head when their eyes met, fearing he would lose himself in the deep brown, so he closed his lids, concentrating on himself, trying to find the most pleasurable motion for both of them. The pads of his fingers wandered over to the short hair at Jonghyun’s nape, his pelvis rocking in a steady rhythm, his ears focused on the low sounds falling from the other’s lips. He whined when he felt the other’s nails pinch his nipple and pull at it, and his eyes snapped open to find a smirk plastered on Jonghyun’s lips. 

“Look at me,” the older one requested, hand wandering up Taemin’s chest until it came to rest on his cheek, stroking it fondly. Taemin wanted to lean into the touch, wanted to close his eyes again; to relish the feeling of having the other to himself, but he didn’t. He kept his eyes open and held the other’s gaze, lips parting slightly when Jonghyun’s thumb brushed over his bottom lip.

“Does this feel good?” A tiny cocky smile graced Jonghyun’s lips, the kind of smile that made Taemin’s knees weak, his heart beat faster, and the erection between his thighs throb more painfully.

He nodded weakly, fingernails scratching along Jonghyun’s scalp, his body rocking up and down in the other’s lap, his tongue darting out to lap at the other’s thumb as his bottom lip was pushed down. The pressure in his abdomen began to feel nice, the sweetness of the stretch when he moved, and Jonghyun’s hands wandered down his sides, holding onto his hips before continuing their journey until they settled on his buttocks. Taemin’s mouth fell open with a gasp and his eyes rolled back in his head when he sensed fingers brushing along his crack, one of them wiggling its way sneakily into him alongside the other’s cock, making him feel incredibly full.

“Good?” Jonghyun asked, followed by a low snicker when Taemin did nothing but nod again. “Why so silent?”

“The others,” Taemin breathed his answer, wanting to touch himself but not wanting to let it be over just yet, the muscles in his loins pulling at his insides, the satisfying pressure only intensifying. 

“Who cares?”

Jonghyun straightened up to capture Taemin’s lips with his own, his finger slipping in deeper, muffling the resulting little whimper with a kiss. Taemin held onto Jonghyun as he started to move quicker, increasing the string of pleasure rippling through his body whenever his butt sucked Jonghyun deeper inside to tease his walls.

Taemin was slowly getting used to the unfamiliar position when Jonghyun suddenly asked him to lie on the desk, irritation washing over Taemin’s face as he slowed his movements. Why would anyone use the desk when they had a perfectly comfortable bed?

Not wanting to question the other’s wish out loud, he carefully got up instead and pushed his textbooks aside before hopping onto the cold gray surface with his butt, waiting for further instructions, already missing the other’s warmth and his dick. Jonghyun knelt on the mattress and turned toward him, tugging at his legs until Taemin finally understood what the other wanted him to do.

“We can also do this in bed,” he made clear with a resigning sigh as he lay down across the desk, shivering as his back came in contact with the cold material. He held onto the edge with one hand as Jonghyun pulled him closer, his other hand shielding his eyes from the lamp’s bright light.

“But I like this angle. Besides, this lets me see you better.”

Fingers glided over Taemin’s thigh with a hum and he looked up, pushing the lampshade up so the light was thrown at the ceiling now instead of his naked body. A smile flashed over Jonghyun’s face before Taemin’s legs were spread apart, his bottom placed at the edge of the desk. Taemin’s fingernails scratched over the cold surface and he moaned as Jonghyun slowly pushed back into him without hesitation, his back arching under the intrusion, his shoulder blades hurting.

His legs were held up and spread wide, used as leverage for Jonghyun to push into him with more ease. Taemin had to press his hand against the wall behind him to avoid knocking his head against it as the thrusts got deeper, his cheeks flushing out of embarrassment when, not only did the bed start to squeak with Jonghyun’s movements, but also the desk Taemin was lying on bumped against the wall. Taemin deemed it impossible that the others in their apartment wouldn’t wake up from the constant thudding noise. The position he was in was more than uncomfortable because a nearby textbook dug into his hip whenever Jonghyun thrust into him, leaving a hurtful imprint.

When Jonghyun started to palm his dick and stroked him insistently, Taemin felt his orgasm build up quickly inside of him, making him shudder. All he could hear was the squeaking of the bed and the thumping of the desk, Jonghyun’s little words of encouragement and his own moans as he spread his legs further, toes curling, fingers scratching along the wallpaper, small pieces coming off and sticking underneath his nails.

He frowned as he was pushed over the edge, Jonghyun’s name naturally falling from his lips like the _Amen_ at the end of a prayer, his body twitching and arching and muscles contracting as cum spurted onto his belly, some drops even reaching as far as his nipples; the most intense orgasm he had experienced in a while crashing over him like a tidal wave, shaking his world and turning it upside down. Body covered in goosebumps he let himself be jerked off until the last drop, Jonghyun’s thrusts shallow as he gave Taemin a moment to calm down and take pleasure in the little aftershocks that swept over him. He felt dizzy, his head rolling from one side to the other as he licked his lips, head buzzing, legs hanging lifelessly from the desk, unsure if he would even be able to stand up again. He glanced at Jonghyun before letting his eyes fall shut, to find the other looking at him with the tiniest of smiles.

They had done it. After all this time, Jonghyun had really made him come again with his hand and his dick, the real thing so much better than all the fantasies Taemin had come up with since December.

Had it been _that_ long?

“You look fucked, Tae.”

A hand caressed his thigh and Taemin smiled absentmindedly, a sound of disapproval leaving his lips when Jonghyun pulled out of him, making him feel open and weirdly exposed, his hole twitching at the loss, wanting to be filled again. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling hazy, moisture accumulating in the dip between his collarbones. Hair stuck to his sweaty face, he propped himself up on his elbows, eyes not leaving Jonghyun as he slid from the bed and came around the desk wordlessly, pulling the swivel chair away so he could lean over Taemin and lick up the cum. The sight made the younger one bite his lip, heat resurfacing deep inside of him despite the exhaustion yanking at his limbs, wanting him to huddle up in bed and sleep.

How had he managed to go without Jonghyun for so long? Even a second without their lips touching felt like an eternity.

“ _I missed that taste,_ ” Jonghyun mouthed against his skin, leaving a wet trail behind as his tongue wandered up to Taemin’s nipple, sucking it in between his lips. Taemin groaned when Jonghyun’s head roamed back down again, taking his softening cock into his mouth to suck and lick it clean like a cat fishing for the last remnants of food in its bowl, the display so obscene that his dick automatically began to twitch again. When Jonghyun finally had mercy on him and let him slip out of his mouth, Taemin’s lower body and dick glistened with spit as a cheeky grin grew on Jonghyun's lips.

The sun was rising now, the dark blue night sky slowly turning red and orange as Taemin looked out the window next to his bed. Another day had arrived, but Taemin felt like the night wasn’t over as he glanced back at Jonghyun and his eyes fell to the other’s dick, still standing at full attention, looking far more awake than Taemin felt. Still he reached out to let his fingers wander along Jonghyun’s crotch, feeling the rough stubble; a few small reddish dots – ingrown hairs – visible on the otherwise immaculate skin. 

He tried to sit up as gracefully as possible, but his joints cracked as he turned around on the desk to face the other, legs coming up to hook around Jonghyun’s hips and pull him closer. His legs felt sore and his back hurt from lying on the hard desk for so long, but they weren’t done yet; Taemin didn’t want them to be done yet. Resting his palm against Jonghyun’s chest, Taemin felt the other’s heartbeat quicken, pulsing through his skin, beguiling him, enchanting him.

“I want you to cum,” he said and looked up at Jonghyun, finger grazing the outline of the white patch covering Jonghyun’s left nipple, hiding something Taemin would have loved to play with; would have loved to bury his teeth in and pull at. 

A smile emerged on Jonghyun’s lips as he rubbed Taemin’s thighs with strong, persuasive strokes. “I’m in no rush.”

Gnawing on his lower lip, Taemin placed his feet on the edge of the desk with his legs spread wide and leaned back on his hands, wanting to present himself; wanting Jonghyun to jump into the pool and dive right back into him.

“But I want you to,” Taemin voiced out loud, adrenaline and his previous negligence making him braver, more demanding – almost desperate. 

The amused little smirk on Jonghyun’s lips widened and two fingers skipped teasingly up Taemin’s inner thigh and down to his ass, smearing the remaining lube around before pushing inside, Taemin’s upper body rearing up in response. 

“Look how far you’ve come in the past few months. The first time you wouldn’t even touch me, and now look at you, so needy for someone’s dick.” 

It wasn’t just _someone’s_ dick he was desperate to get inside of him, Taemin wanted to correct, it was _Jonghyun’s_ dick – Jonghyun’s dick alone he wanted to feel, and Taemin wished that the other would finally realize that; would stop fooling around with him and see what they had in a different light. Had he ever been this close to Kibum? Kibum, who was so different from everyone else in their apartment, who couldn’t care less about video games, Pokémon evolutions, and taking proper care of Jonghyun? Wasn’t what Taemin had with Jonghyun far more precious and more valuable, as they clicked on so many more levels than just the physical one? They matched; there were no more words needed to describe it. They were a match; a swipe to the right on a dating app.

“Do you need more lube?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Taemin blinked at Jonghyun, not understanding the context until he looked between them, where the other’s fingers probed at his entrance. He shook his head quickly and closed his eyes when Jonghyun leaned forward for another kiss, their lips brushing against one another the second Jonghyun entered him again. Taemin tasted his own bitterness on the other’s tongue, arms slinging around Jonghyun’s neck, pulling him as close as this position allowed. Puffing against Jonghyun’s ear, the words _‘I love you’_ almost slipped out of him, and Taemin had to bite his tongue, a helpless _‘So good_ ’ rolling out instead. His fingers skimmed down Jonghyun’s shoulders to his arms, feeling the tension in every muscle, holding onto his biceps when the other nipped at his collarbones.

Fucking like that, it didn’t take Jonghyun long to cum with a low grunt, fingers burying themselves in Taemin’s thighs, his hot breath against Taemin’s heated skin making the younger tremble. Something inside of him despised Jonghyun for wearing a condom. He wanted to feel the other’s cum inside of him; wanted to carry it around as long as possible until it dribbled down his thighs and he could scoop it up with a finger.

Jonghyun slumped against him after a few more thrusts, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his chest. Taemin held onto him, fondled his head, kissed his hair, and slung his legs back around him, because he didn’t feel like letting go just yet. He wanted to keep Jonghyun inside of him until he went soft and slipped out on his own. 

“Good?” Jonghyun asked breathlessly, his pecs heaving and sweat glistening on his forehead.

Taemin pretended to think about his answer and tilted his head to the side, watching Jonghyun silently for a while.

“Maybe a 6.5,” he said, a random number in a monotone voice, fingertips itching when Jonghyun raised one of his eyebrows.

“ _6.5?_ 6.5 out of what?”

“10?” Taemin questioned innocently, the corners of his lips turning up into a grin when Jonghyun snorted and pushed his chest with one hand.

“ _Tz_ – 6.5.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, and Taemin placed a hand at the back of his neck to pull him in and shut him up with a kiss. Taemin had never realized how much he enjoyed kissing Jonghyun; he was unable to stop, their lips colliding again and again.

“Does 12 sound better?” Taemin pressed their foreheads together as he spoke, and Jonghyun stepped away to pull out, the used condom finding its way into the bin underneath his desk, wrapped up in some tissues. 

“A little.”

Jonghyun slumped back onto the bed then, running a hand through his hair, and Taemin’s eyes wandered along his naked body, thinking how good the other looked, his temples pulsating when his eyes paused their journey at Jonghyun’s crotch. To him, it felt like the Holy Grail; the cradle of civilization, his mouth itching to worship its mere existence. 

“Come here, the bed is getting cold.”

Jonghyun patted the mattress next to him. Taemin felt the strain in his thighs when he slid from the desk and answered the Siren’s call, falling right into Jonghyun’s arms, the older one naturally spreading his legs for him.

Jonghyun chuckled when Taemin began to hump him in a teasing, almost silly fashion as he enjoyed the friction it caused, his soft dick rubbing against the other.

“You act like a dog that has been starved for weeks,” Jonghyun commented, hands repeatedly combing through Taemin’s black hair. 

“That's what it feels like, yeah,” Taemin replied sheepishly, hands slipping down to squeeze Jonghyun’s thighs.

“So what are we going to do now, _hm_?” Jonghyun’s fingers traveled south, scratching lightly at Taemin’s shoulder blades.

Sinking onto his elbows, Taemin nuzzled the other’s neck and took a deep breath, flooding his lungs with Jonghyun’s scent, and a warm feeling spread throughout his body.

“We are going to do you now.”

The comment earned him a slap against his upper arm and another laugh, Jonghyun’s foot running up Taemin’s calf.

“That’s not what I meant,” the older began, clasping his fingers behind Taemin’s neck. “I meant: what are we going to do about _this_? Was this a one-time thing or –“ 

Taemin felt his throat tighten and he looked up at Jonghyun immediately. “Please don’t let this be a one-time thing.” 

“Friends with benefits then?” Jonghyun asked, and Taemin’s heart dropped into his stomach. He hated those words. Three little words that ruined all his hopes. Three little words that defined everything they were, but nothing Taemin wanted them to be.

He sat up between the other’s legs and reached for the lube, absentmindedly coating his fingers with it before spreading Jonghyun’s legs further apart.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he admitted, not looking at Jonghyun as his fingers slid along his ass, thumb grazing the rim and slightly digging at it, watching the little hole opening up for him like a flower bud.

“I don’t want a relationship, Taemin. That wouldn’t work.” Jonghyun propped himself up on his elbows, legs bent lazily, dick resting soft and small against his skin, as Taemin pushed his thumb in a little and crooked it, as though he had caught a fish on a hook. Jonghyun was convinced that a relationship wouldn’t work with Taemin, but he had wanted one with Kibum? Kibum, of all people, who treated others like fashion accessories that became untrendy within a season? 

Taemin licked his lips and furrowed his brows, wavering between being aroused by the sight presented and being upset at the words that were directed at him. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know myself, Taemin-ah. Trust me.”

Sighing in defeat, Taemin pulled his thumb out and let his slick fingers graze the other’s balls instead, skin so soft, like nowhere else on Jonghyun’s body.

“But maybe you don’t know _me_ well enough, _Jonghyun_.” Taemin rarely called the other by his name, feeling like a weird power that he couldn’t control radiated from it. Two syllables that could make him fall to his knees in an instant.

He leaned back as Jonghyun decided to sit up fully and stretched out a leg to poke Taemin’s ribs with his big toe. Taemin grabbed him by his ankle, holding it securely in his hand.

“More onion layers, _hm_?” Jonghyun cocked his head and pulled his leg back, only to place the sole of his foot carefully against Taemin’s dick. “Taemin-ah, layers can be fun to unveil, but sometimes people aren’t steeled to face what they find beneath them.” 

Taemin looked between them and saw the other’s foot move against him a little, sliding along his skin, slowly awakening his nether regions from their slumber.

“I have nothing to hide,” Taemin answered meekly, the pressure leaving his dick when Jonghyun decided to pull his foot away. 

“But maybe I have.” Seductive like a forest nymph, Jonghyun slipped closer and took Taemin’s dick in one hand while watching him, the younger swallowing visibly before he placed his hands on Jonghyun’s face and kissed him.

“Should I check for corpses under your bed?” he breathed against Jonghyun’s lips when he broke away again, earning a little chuckle.

“Maybe later.”

Taemin smiled at Jonghyun and moaned into his mouth as the other squeezed his dick, his pelvis immediately pushing forward to heighten the pressure. Under Jonghyun’s skillful treatment he was hard again in mere minutes and settled down between the other’s thighs after putting on a condom and lubing himself up generously. Being back inside of Jonghyun felt too good to be true, and when Jonghyun buried his fingers in Taemin’s hair to pull at it, he wished that they could spend every early morning like this. That he could spend every early morning between Jonghyun’s thighs, pushing into him, feeling the other’s ankles pulling him closer, listening to stifled moans, little whines, and small sighs, enjoying the kissing and groping, these little intimate moments only the two of them shared.

Taemin felt like a god after waking up for the second time that day, his arms encircled around Jonghyun’s waist and his nose buried in the other’s neck. He couldn’t stop smiling no matter how hard he tried, his hands wandering over Jonghyun’s chest and his lips kissing the other’s neck without a pause.

“Insatiable and so needy,” Jonghyun muttered after a while and Taemin felt the other stirring in front of him, grabbing his hand to hold it still. 

“Can we go again?” Taemin whispered, nipping on Jonghyun’s skin and licking his neck below the hairline, watching how the other tried to duck his head.

“Tae, we can’t have sex all day. I’ve got my first exam tomorrow, and you should study as well.”

Taemin could hear how the other tried to sound commanding and how terrible he was at it, and the smile on his face only widened, all logical reasoning gone. He couldn’t describe the happiness he felt, but it was a genuine feeling that embraced his heart and enabled him to ignore the previous day and the miserable weeks that came before it.

“Can I suck you off then?”

There were footsteps audible outside the door before the water in one of their bathroom sinks started running, followed by the sound of someone brushing their teeth. 

“Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun whined and turned around, Taemin grinning at the drowsy face in front of him. There was a small red spot on Jonghyun’s cheek that hadn’t been there a few hours ago, and the lines of the pillowcase had carved themselves into his cheek, dark circles under small red eyes making him look more human than Taemin believed him to be. 

“But I’ve become pretty good at it,” he tried again, already wanting to slide down the other’s body when he was held back, a sigh leaving Jonghyun’s lips.

“I know that,” he began slowly, lifting his hand to stroke Taemin’s cheek. “Taemin, we’re just friends, okay? Friends with benefits, right? Nothing more. You understand that concept, right?”

For a moment, Taemin’s heart clenched painfully, but he smiled that heavy feeling away and leaned forward instead, brushing the tip of his nose along Jonghyun’s and placing a kiss on his dry lips, feeling pieces of skin pricking him. He wanted to be happy, even if it was just for a little while. He didn’t want to think about his feelings not being mutual, about his feelings leading him nowhere but to a dead end.

“Let me make you feel good.”

He tried to make his voice sound as seductive as humanly possible and cringed at the sound of it, then he started to kiss his way down Jonghyun’s body and disappeared beneath the blanket, passing neck and chest and continuing his trip until he nestled his nose into the other’s crotch, no longer being held back by the other. He breathed in the musky scent, felt the stubble of growing hair scratch along his chin, his hands caressing firm thighs that almost naturally parted for him. It was warm and cozy beneath the blanket, the other’s skin feeling soft beneath his touch.

Taemin didn’t tease but went directly to town, his lips running from the seam of Jonghyun’s balls up to the tip of his cock, dried saliva and the artificial taste of condoms mixing on his tongue as he engulfed the glans with his lips, giving it a soft suck, feeling Jonghyun’s cock twitch in his mouth. He had learned a lot about blowjobs in the past few months, mostly through watching Jonghyun giving head, porn, and practice, trying to work on everything the other had remarked on. He wasn’t sure if he had become good at giving head in general or if his style was just something that accommodated Jonghyun’s taste. For example, while most men – like Taemin himself – seemed most sensitive around the area of the penile frenulum, Jonghyun enjoyed it more when Taemin dedicated his time to licking the other side of his dick.

His girlfriends in the past had always been rather shy about expressing what they liked and didn’t like in bed, and Taemin had tried – often without any success – to listen to any sound they produced to find out what made them feel good without forcing them to say it out loud. It had been a frustrating task, his tongue and lips often going numb from spending what seemed like years between his girlfriends’ legs without bringing them any closer to an orgasm. These experiences had marked him in a way, and for the longest time he had thought of himself as a clear failure in oral sex, but with Jonghyun’s guidance, with someone who had led him from the start and told him openly what he liked and didn’t like, his ego had gathered strength, and his confidence had risen. He had no problem complying with anyone’s wishes if he was just instructed correctly. Getting someone off was like the choreography to a dance, or the code to a computer program; one just needed to learn the correct steps, or the correct controls to make it work.

“Yes – that flick with your tongue – do – do that again,” Jonghyun gasped, and Taemin blinked when the blanket was suddenly pulled away from him, his eyes meeting Jonghyun’s as the other looked down at him.

“This?”

Taemin repeated the action, and a groan fell from Jonghyun’s lips as he arched his back, spreading his legs further, one hand reaching down to grab Taemin’s hair.

“ _Yes._ ”

Jonghyun’s voice was breathy, and Taemin watched the other’s chest heave, the hand in his hair pulling slightly at the strands. He repeated the movement several times, flicking his tongue against the top while sucking Jonghyun in, holding the base with one hand while the thumb and index finger of the other encircled him beneath his balls to squeeze them a bit and press them upwards. Taemin wasn’t a fan of having his balls treated like this, but Jonghyun seemed to get turned on by it immensely, a long growl falling from his lips as he pressed further into Taemin’s touch.

“Fuck – yes – _yes_ – exactly like that,” he moaned, pushing his pelvis up to meet the movements of Taemin’s head.

Taemin heard another pair of slippers waddle along the corridor in front of his room, then a shower curtain was pushed open and closed again, the sounds of water and Jinki singing in the shower soon filling his ears. He had to smile involuntarily while bobbing his head up and down, watching the other slowly fall apart beneath him. Wasn’t it funny how he used his mouth to do something as filthy as getting his flat-mate off, while his other flat-mate used his mouth to sing Bruno Mars’ songs beneath a showerhead?

“Really? ‘[Just the Way You Are’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjhCEhWiKXk)? What a mood killer,” Jonghyun uttered and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose with a frown. Taemin let his cock slip out of his mouth but continued to jerk him off with his hand.

“Why? What’s so bad about it? Jinki has a nice voice.”

“He has, but I don’t want to have Jinki on my mind while getting head from you. He’s like an older brother.”

If Jinki felt like an older brother to him, what did Taemin feel like? A younger brother? A neighbor? A comrade?

“Cover your ears, then.” 

It was a simple solution to a small nuisance, and after a skeptical look at Taemin, Jonghyun followed the other’s suggestion, the younger one licking his lips with a grin before taking his cock back in. It didn’t take long for Taemin to get the other where he wanted him to be, a mixture of sucking, licking and stroking him with the right amount of pressure resulting in Jonghyun tensing every part of his body and growling in the back of his throat as warm liquid spurted into Taemin’s mouth, the sperm almost tasteless, Jonghyun dropping his hands from his ears to fist Taemin’s hair and pull painfully at it.

“ _Fuck._ ”

It sounded almost like a moan and Taemin felt accomplished, letting his tongue run over the glans a few more times before straightening up, hand running over Jonghyun’s hip in soothing circles, watching the other’s body slowly relax again.

“Come here,” Jonghyun whispered and motioned Taemin to move back up to him while Jinki sang the first chorus and the refrain in a continuous loop, apparently not caring if the entire dormitory could hear him. Taemin brought the blanket with him when he lay down next to Jonghyun and covered the both of them, smiling contentedly as Jonghyun pulled him into a hug and pressed a kiss against his temple.

“Thank you.” 

“No, thank _you_ ,” Taemin answered, overly polite, causing the older one to chuckle as he leaned over to Taemin’s ear and mumbled, “You’ve really become good at it.”

* * *

At least on the surface, things went back to how they had been before Taemin’s confession, which meant that he and Jonghyun spent their days studying, watching anime, and playing computer games, while most nights ended with them sleeping together in one of their rooms and falling asleep in each other’s arms afterward. For Taemin, it felt like his string of bad luck had finally ended, and he was able to present himself in a different light to Jonghyun, demonstrating him that he was indeed a grownup, capable of acting like an adult and worth more than just the status of a friend with benefits.

Taemin was convinced that he would break Jonghyun’s shell eventually and put more effort into the persuasion of Jonghyun than his actual university work, his debatable priorities causing him to fail two of his six end-term exams. But none of that mattered to him when he and Jonghyun watched anime together and his head rested in the other’s lap, the fingers of one hand combing his hair gently while the other occasionally disappeared into the collar of his shirt to stroke his chest and toy with his nipples.

He was happy for the first time in weeks, and it didn’t bother him that Jonghyun insisted they were just close friends who had sex with each other whenever Taemin got a little too lovey-dovey with him. It didn’t bother him, because he knew that Jonghyun didn’t sleep around anymore, not with Kibum nor with anyone else.

It was just Taemin and that was all that mattered to him.

Jonghyun had even stopped mentioning Kibum when they were alone and had finally stopped spending time with the other, apparently taking his plan of overcoming his feelings for Kibum seriously. Even the bickering had stopped, making Taemin realize that their constant fighting over trivial things might actually have been some sort of warm-up; a bizarre form of foreplay that had turned them on.

He didn’t listen to Minho during a game of soccer, when the other told him that he should be careful, because this whole thing he had going on with Jonghyun was just as fucked up as the thing Jonghyun had going on with Kibum had been. He didn’t listen to Jinki, who pulled him aside one day to tell him that he was glad to see him with a constant smile on his face, but that his current relationship with Jonghyun couldn’t continue like this forever if the two of them wanted different things from one another. He listened to neither of them because he knew very well that he was indeed playing with fire, as Minho always called it. He was aware that things could go downhill within a second if he didn’t pay enough attention and fell in too deep; that everything could be over with a snap of Jonghyun’s fingers. Sometimes it scared him how much power the other had over him, how his mood was influenced by the other, controlling him like the moon does the tides. 

He knew that his dependence on Jonghyun wasn’t healthy; he wasn’t that dumb or naïve, but there was nothing he could do or wanted to do about it, the lows Jonghyun bestowed him with nothing in comparison with all the highs he was able to experience because of him. He decided not to care about the future or what being with Jonghyun like this would do to his mind and heart. Taemin wanted to enjoy the feeling of being desired, ignoring the fact that he would rather be loved than desired.

* * *

“When is the wedding? I hope you’ll let me be the flower girl; I look splendid in dresses.”

Taemin looked up from his laptop, gazing at Kibum who flung himself casually on the kitchen table, balancing a small water bottle in his hand. Ever since Jonghyun and Taemin had started having sex months ago, the younger had kept his distance from Kibum, mostly because of jealousy, but also because the other could be quite annoying.

When Taemin frowned in reply, a low chuckle left Kibum’s lips, and he opened the bottle of water and took a sip.

“You and Jonghyun. That’s what you wish for, isn’t it? Being together with him, having him all to yourself, pretending to be boyfriends. It’s okay to have these thoughts; you are still young. Nothing reprehensible about it,” Kibum said, sounding somewhat patronizing, as if he was talking to a kid. Taemin wasn’t sure what the other was getting at with this monologue that didn’t make much sense to him.

“You are just two years older than I am,” Taemin pointed out, and a deep sigh left Kibum’s lips in response. 

“A person changes a lot in two years. Believe me, in two years you won’t be the person you are today,” he explained emotionlessly, but then began to gesture around with his hand. “But that wasn’t my point. Have you ever wondered why Jonghyun and I never dated? I’m sure you have.”

“Because you are a selfish ass without a conscience?” Taemin wasn’t in the mood to continue this conversation, even though the other sat a mere minute next to him. Just looking at his flat-mate irritated him.

“Ah – selfish?” Kibum tilted his head with a slight frown, eyes wandering up to the ceiling, fingers tapping the water bottle in his hand, as if he was thinking about Taemin’s answer. “I never really thought of myself as selfish, _huh_.” A tiny pout appeared on his lips.

“Is this conversation supposed to be leading somewhere? Because I’m kind of busy,” Taemin huffed, turning his head back toward his laptop to continue his flash game, the vein in his neck starting to come forward, pulsing.

“Busy waiting for Jonghyun to come back from his job? Cute.”

There was another low chuckle before Taemin felt the bottom of the bottle tap against his shoulder, making him look up, his lips pressing together tightly. He had no idea why Kibum of all people aggravated him so much, but they had gotten along a lot better when Taemin had just moved in, not knowing about his flat-mates’ relationships just yet. Sometimes he missed the other’s cooking, but to Taemin that was all there was to miss about him. Kibum could move out of their apartment tomorrow and he wouldn’t shed a tear – would probably buy beer for everyone instead. Was he mean to Kibum for no reason? Did he despise him because he symbolized everything Jonghyun wanted that Taemin couldn’t seem to give him? Had Kibum been able to unveil all of Jonghyun’s layers already without being fazed by any of them?

“Jonghyun has this unrealistic idea of what a relationship should be. He’s looking for someone who doesn’t exist. I don’t think he ever liked me as much as he claimed he did, Taemin. He might have told you that, but he didn’t – _doesn’t,_ or whatever.”

Taemin was puzzled, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. What was the other even talking about?

“He likes the idea of me or the idea of being in love, that’s all.” An indifferent shoulder shrug. “He has this idealized version of me in his head that doesn’t match the real me at all.” Kibum paused to take another sip, held the water in his cheeks, and then swallowed it down. “When people are scared, they tend to cling to something or someone that gives them comfort. When someone helps you to clean up the garbage that others have left behind, you develop something like sympathy for them, right?”

Kibum glanced at Taemin, looking for approval that the younger would never grant him, his legs swinging back and forth as they dangled leisurely from the table. Taemin had no idea what they were talking about anymore, or if anything that left Kibum’s mouth even had something to do with Jonghyun. “If you are feeling lonely, you might interpret the sympathy you have for someone as something that goes deeper, but in reality, you are only lying to yourself. I think that’s what happened with Jonghyun.”

Kibum took another sip before closing the bottle with its cap and placing it on the table. “Listen, Taemin, let me give you some well-meant advice. If you want to explore your sexuality with him, then do that. Jonghyun knows what he’s doing and can probably teach you quite a lot, but if you are looking for someone to fall in love with or to be with – then look somewhere else, not in this apartment.”

Taemin swallowed thickly, not knowing what to think or feel. What was Kibum trying to tell him? Why was everyone so against him liking Jonghyun? All of them made him sound like a monster hiding in someone’s wardrobe that came out at night to terrorize everyone. But Kibum and the others – they couldn’t possibly be talking about Jonghyun – sensitive, nerdy, and kind Jonghyun. _His_ Jonghyun. Kibum’s side of the story sounded so different from everything else he had heard so far. Was this Rashōmon? A story told from different perspectives without the observer knowing which one was true? What was the truth? Whom was he supposed to believe? Or were they all just lying to him – maybe even Jonghyun?

“What’s your point?” 

“He won’t be the man you want him to be. You clutch at any straw he throws at you, but eventually you will realize that you won’t fit his unrealistic idea of a partner either.”

“How do you know that? I’m not you.”

There was another small laugh and Taemin bit his bottom lip, clenching his fist beneath the table.

“No, you are definitely not me. Look, are you in a relationship with him?”

Taemin shook his head unwillingly.

“Did he ever tell you that he loves you?”

“He told me that he likes me,” Taemin answered quickly, not wanting to admit that the word _love_ had never crossed Jonghyun’s lips. How should it, when Jonghyun emphasized the words _friends with benefits_ every time Taemin held onto his hand and wanted him to stay the night, not leave after both of them had cum.

“Look, I also liked the dog of our old neighbors back in Daegu and cared about him. Doesn’t mean I loved him.”

To be compared with a dog was painful, but then again, what was he for Jonghyun if not a pet? What he had accused Jonghyun of doing in regard to Kibum, Taemin now did with him. He ran after Jonghyun like a little puppy; one whistle and he was right there, wagging his tail excitedly.

Love really made people blind – and stupid. _So very stupid_. 

“He stopped sleeping around; that’s all the proof I need.” Taemin stayed stubborn, turning back to his laptop and starting a new game, pressing _enter_ to make the small blue ball on the screen jump. 

“I wouldn’t call what he did in the past few months ‘sleeping around’. There were some far more interesting times during his freshman year, but Jinki can probably tell you more about that.” Kibum grinned peculiarly and hopped from the table. “Did he tell you that he stopped sleeping with others because of you?” Kibum asked then, almost taunting.

Taemin’s gaze was fixed on the screen, his index finger pushing the spacebar just a little more forcefully, his leg bouncing restlessly under the table. It wasn’t like he had seen Jonghyun with anyone but Kibum since he had moved in, anyway. At first glance, Jonghyun might appear to be someone who did bed-hopping as a sport, but thinking about it more thoroughly, the first time Taemin had seen Jonghyun actively approach someone was when he had shown up in Taemin’s room during that fateful party.

“No, he didn’t,” he responded through clenched teeth, hoping that this conversation would be over soon. He didn’t need someone like Kibum to remind him that there was something incredibly wrong about his relationship with Jonghyun. Didn’t need to be reminded that sex and love were two separate things, not synonyms that could be used interchangeably. You didn’t need to love someone to have sex with them and vice versa. 

A soft hum. “So, what would you do if he brought someone else home?” 

“He wouldn’t do that!” Taemin almost yelled it, his irritation level reaching its peak, his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

“Did I hit a sore spot?” Kibum asked, Taemin feeling the urge to ball his fists and punch him. A crushing thought, considering that such impulses were usually foreign to him. “Are you sure about that?”

Taemin hesitated, not having an answer to this question. He didn’t know what Jonghyun would do if he met someone he found attractive. What _would_ the other do if he passed a Gong Yoo lookalike on the street? But despite being unsure about the reality of things, Taemin didn’t want to feel exposed or mocked, didn’t want to lose face, therefore he straightened up and looked the other in the eyes, gaze unwavering.

“Yes, I am,” he said finally, every word punctuated, ignoring the pitying look that was sent his way. “Look,” Taemin tried to mimic the patronizing tone in the other’s voice. “Just stay away from him, will you? Since your list of fuck buddies is ten pages long already, it doesn’t matter if you cross one name out of it. You are a fucking asshole for leaving his name on it for so long anyway. I don’t need advice from someone who treats people like inanimate objects for their entertainment.”

Taemin anticipated Kibum to respond in any number of ways, but laughing out loud and clapping his thigh hadn’t been one of the options.

“So you _can_ be feisty after all, _huh_? Not so vanilla, like you are always pretending to be?” Kibum said, seemingly unimpressed by Taemin’s appeal. In the end, he was only a small fish in a shark tank. “You’ve moved into this apartment with four adults, Taemin. So act like one,” he said in a calmer tone and pointed the water bottle at him. “You are calling me an asshole for sleeping with Jonghyun despite knowing about his feelings? But what about him, then? Is he an asshole as well, _huh_? Taemin, if you want to be treated like an adult so bad, you might want to consider learning how to be more objective.”

With that Kibum left and didn’t turn back to Taemin again, the door to his room soon falling into its lock. Taemin licked his lips, his mind buzzing with questions. Shoulders slumped, he pressed his hands against his eye sockets, rubbed them, and took a deep breath. Being an adult was harder than Taemin had expected it to be. If he had called Kibum an asshole, was it right to call Jonghyun one as well? Weren’t their cases completely different?

Thoughts about the likelihood of other sex partners, of finding his place in this apartment swirled around Taemin’s head for a long time. He trusted Jonghyun enough to think that the other would talk to him before bringing someone else home – someone who wasn’t Kibum, at least. Besides, why would there possibly be a need for someone else to have sex with anyway? Jonghyun had Taemin now, and he gave all he had to make sure that Jonghyun wouldn’t get bored of him or the sex they had. He researched porn like a science project, read forums on what new things they could try in the hope that it might be something new for Jonghyun as well.

He had even started sexting after reading that it could deepen the bond between two people. He was terrible at it, as typing down things he wanted to do with Jonghyun and things he wanted Jonghyun to do with him made him feel shy and awkward, but for some unknown reason Jonghyun found his texts endearing, quickly getting the hang of it and encouraging him to let his thoughts wander when the two of them were apart. At this point Taemin had a folder on his phone filled with nudes Jonghyun had sent him from random toilets at university or the library; pictures of his newly added piercing, his abs, his dick, his nicely placed tattoo, or his lips sucking on lollipops or something similarly seductive and obscene. The list was endless, Jonghyun being far more creative and artistic in his creations than Taemin was.

He hadn’t known what kind of photos he was supposed to take in the beginning, sending mostly dick pics, because he assumed those were the most obvious type of nudes one could take as a guy. However, he had soon found out that Jonghyun was more intricate than that, so he had started to take note of body parts the other requested more frequently, most commonly his collarbones, close-ups of his lips, his tummy, and his butt while lying flat on his stomach. The latter request was especially hard to fulfill, harder than he had expected it to be, and sometimes it took Taemin up to twenty attempts of angling his phone just right and pressing the shutter without the picture turning out blurry or just showing the wall behind him.

The first time he had sent a photo of his naked butt, Jonghyun had sent him a [vulgar meme](https://ibb.co/G964vYr) in response that showed the Marvel villain Venom with his long tongue sticking out, sliding underneath the blanket of some guy’s bed, the words ‘You’ and ‘Me’ added to the photo. Taemin had answered the text with an emoji that winked and stuck out his tongue, his acrobatic camera work paying off at the end of the day when Jonghyun came into his room in the evening to slip into his bed and free him from his underwear before taking his sweet time to toy with his butt, nibbling on his buttocks, clapping and squeezing them gently while whispering words against his skin that made Taemin’s ears and cheeks feel very hot.

* * *

The start of semester break in early February was something Taemin had expected to enjoy way more than he did. He had believed that he would be spending it in bed with Jonghyun, but with the end of the lecture period, Jonghyun had begun to work more at his faculty’s library, which had led to Taemin spending more time in front of his laptop than in between Jonghyun’s legs. Studying for the exams he needed to retake before the start of the new term wasn’t an option Taemin was willing to think about yet, as he’d had enough of university for the time being and needed a break from codes and programming.

So a normal day would start with Taemin waking up at noon, followed by a late unhealthy breakfast and a marathon of computer games until Jonghyun came home. It was an ever-repeating cycle of sleeping, waiting, fucking, and repeat. While the students from his year usually hung out together all the time, Taemin rarely joined them in their activities, preferring to pass his time in the dormitory instead, sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop set up in front of him. He did so on the second Saturday of semester break as well, Jonghyun having gone home to his mother for the day and Taemin trying to be happy for him instead of envious of his mother, who got to spend time with her son. 

Taemin had decided against going back home for a longer visit, too afraid that he might miss out on something if he traveled to the countryside. His main fear was that Jonghyun would pick up random strangers off the street, not that Taemin would have admitted to that openly. So instead of eating his mother’s delicious cooking, he hung his head over cup noodles, stuffing his face with fatty convenience store food while playing an old strategy game on his computer.

When the door to Minho’s room opened around 8pm, Taemin looked up, finding his flat-mate about to put on his winter coat as he came out.

“You are still sitting here?” Minho asked in surprise when he noticed Taemin at the table, the younger one helplessly shrugging his shoulders.

“Where else should I be?” Taemin murmured as he munched on more noodles. He felt some grease sticking to his chin and tried to wipe it away with the sleeve of his sweater, staining it. 

Minho came over to him with a laugh and placed his hands on the table. “I don’t know. Go outside? Hang out with friends? Partying? Socializing? Basically, anything other than sitting alone at the kitchen table on a Saturday night?”

“I don’t mind. Found this retro strategy game on Steam. It was on sale. It’s fun,” Taemin commented nonchalantly, fishing some more noodles out of the red cup with his chopsticks. Minho looked around for a moment and then straightened up.

“Jonghyun’s not here?”

Taemin shook his head. “He’s at his mom’s.”

As if on command, an understanding hum left Minho’s mouth, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “So you are waiting for him to get back.”

Taemin wanted to tell him ‘No’, but they both knew that would have been a lie. Waiting was Taemin’s newest hobby: waiting for Jonghyun to come home from his part-time job, waiting for Jonghyun to come home from his mother’s place, waiting for Jonghyun to come around and finally declare his eternal love for him.

Maybe not the latter, but Taemin could dream.

When he didn’t say anything, a theatrical sigh left Minho and he nudged Taemin’s shoulder.

“You look like a puppy who’s waiting for its owner to come back home,” he explained and continued nudging Taemin with his forefinger. “That’s not a cool look, Tae. Don’t make yourself so dependent on him. You can still have fun without him.”

“I’m having lots of fun right now,” Taemin claimed in return, turning his laptop around to let Minho see the big army of griffins, knights, and angels he had gathered on the battlefield already. The older one didn’t seem too impressed, giving him a tired-looking smile.

“Jinki and I are going out to play some pool. Want to tag along to see something other than Jonghyun and your computer screen?”

Taemin grimaced, not liking the idea of exchanging his pair of comfortable sweatpants for a pair of jeans. He hadn’t even showered yet, hair lying straggly on his head.

“I’ll pay,” Minho tried to bait him when Taemin hesitated to accept the invitation. “Come on. It will be fun.”

It took a bit of persuasion to get Taemin to agree to coming with them, but in the end he found himself in a billiard hall near their university campus with a beer bottle in his left hand and a billiard cue in the other, watching in fascination as Jinki pocketed one ball after another, as if he had never done anything else in his life. 

“Should have mentioned that Jinki’s a beast,” Minho commented casually as he stood next to Taemin and took a sip of his beer, while Jinki shot the black ball into one of the corner pockets and finished the game in one smooth run, without missing a single ball even once. Taemin was impressed, his pool skills unable to compete with Jinki’s in the slightest. He had sometimes played pool with Jongin in the past, but both of them had been too dumb to develop any technique, always preferring to fool around and prank one another instead of playing a fair game.

“Maybe I just stick to drinking beer and pass on playing pool.” Taemin raised his beer when Jinki straightened up with a grin.

“Ah, come on; I’ll be nice,” Jinki said as he retrieved the balls from the opening on the side of the table and placed them back into the triangle on the green. Despite being skeptical, Taemin started the next round and made the opening shot, the balls rolling over the table but not a single one falling into any of the six pockets. Fine motor skills had never been his thing – unless they involved a keyboard or a joystick.

As he observed Jinki leaning over the table to position his cue for his turn, Taemin wondered whether Jonghyun had ever played pool before, only noticing that his thoughts had drifted back to his flat-mate again when Minho came up to wrap an arm around his shoulder.

“Daydreaming?”

“I just had a passing thought,” Taemin said and drank some beer, listening to the sounds of Jinki sinking the third ball of the game into a pocket. The tables around them were all empty, the three of them the only customers so far, and Taemin wondered whether they were just early or if the pool hall was usually frequented by university students who had all gone home for semester break.

“A roughly 170cm passing thought, I guess?”

“Maybe,” Taemin admitted, and finally got another shot at the game when Jinki missed hauling a ball into a pocket. He got into position a little clumsily, rolled up the sleeves of his striped long-sleeved t-shirt, and aimed at a red ball, missing it by at least 30cms and knocking one of Jinki’s balls instead, only a miracle preventing it from falling into a pocket. Playing computer games was a lot easier.

“You are holding the billiard cue wrong” and “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you two started fucking again” were two very different statements that simultaneously hailed down on Taemin, and he had no idea whom to answer first as he straightened up and Jinki came around the pool table to demonstrate how to hold the cue properly.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Taemin asked Minho as he leaned over the table like Jinki instructed him to, the eldest of the three not participating in their conversation at present as he positioned Taemin’s fingers on the billiard cue one by one.

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know, because St. Jonghyun was all about not fucking you anymore? And didn’t you talk about dignity?”

“Try it like this. Depending on the angle at which you hit the ball, it will go in different directions. It’s basic math, really,” Jinki commented and pointed at the white ball lying several centimeters away from the tip of Taemin’s cue.

Taemin nodded and tried to aim, hitting the ball he wanted to this time but still failing to dump it in one of the pockets.

“Why are you so up in my business? It should be none of your concern whom I’m sleeping with,” Taemin murmured while Jinki prompted him to try again, the game they had begun turning into a pool lesson for Taemin.

“You know why I’m up in your business,” Minho spoke from the background, and Taemin took another shot, the green ball he wanted to hit – that had Minho’s face printed on it in his mind – landing in a side pocket, bringing a smile to his lips.

“That was good,” Jinki complimented him and patted his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s time for you to focus your energy on something else, then,” Taemin told Minho.

Switching between pool instructions and relationship discussions demanded a lot from Taemin, the next ball he wanted to pocket rolling over the whole table only to end up touching one of Jinki’s balls again and making it disappear into a hole. “I don’t understand why every single one of you wants to dictate who I’m allowed to like and who not, like I’m some child. It’s not like I’m telling you to stop sleeping with Kibum,” Taemin said and turned around to face Minho.

“We’re just worried, Taemin. That’s all.” It was the first indication Jinki had given of listening to the conversation that was taking place, as he walked around the table to find a good position for his billiard cue.

“About what, exactly?” Taemin questioned and picked up his beer bottle. “What’s the worst that could happen? Honestly? That I get my heart broken? That can happen with literally anyone else as well. And if it happens, so what, he will be gone in half a year.”

This last sentence made Taemin’s chest feel uncomfortably tight, the thought of Jonghyun leaving the apartment making him feel uneasy. In front of Minho and Jinki, he tried to put on a brave face, but he was well aware that parting with Jonghyun would be more painful than he let the others believe.

“Look, Taemin,” Minho began anew. “I just think you are obsessing over him a little too much. You’re a freshman; instead of focusing on one person –”

“I should be fucking tons like you do?” Taemin ended the sentence with a snort, pulling the black beanie, he had put on to hide his hair, a little back. “Just a little while ago you talked about puppy love and all that jazz, and now you act like I’m sleeping with a Bond villain.” 

“Taemin-ah, we don’t want to sound patronizing,” Jinki tried to mediate and straightened up, grabbing some chalk to rub around the tip of his billiard cue.

Taemin huffed. “Well, I guess you failed at that.” He suddenly regretted having come along to the billiard hall, sweatpants and a night in front of his laptop sounding much nicer than a pointless argument with two of his flat-mates.

“There are just so many other guys out there who would be a much better fit,” Minho chirped in, resulting in Taemin pressing his lips together.

“Like who? You?” He eyed Minho from the side as he took a sip from his beer, feeling like he should have ordered soju instead, so he could forget about his flat-mate’s nonsense faster.

“For example.”

Taemin could only snort at the comment, speechless. What a narcissistic prick.

He shook his head and wanted to say something, but before he could, Jinki beat him to it, “It’s enough now, okay? I just wanted to spend a chill night playing pool. No talking, just playing.”

“That’s fine with me,” Taemin agreed and grabbed a nearby chair to let himself fall into. Minho looked like he didn’t want their conversation to end just yet, but he let it be, taking a big gulp of beer instead, and watched Jinki pocket the black ball, making him win a second time.

It wasn’t like they didn’t say _anything_ after Jinki exercised his seniority, but they swayed over to lighter topics, relationships and sex not being among them. As an alternative, they talked about soccer teams, wrestling, and cars, leaving Taemin feeling like he was participating in one of those very clichéd talks between men for the first time in his life. He couldn’t contribute much, not being a fan of watching soccer nor having any strong opinions on cars – they just needed to carry him from Point A to Point B and should be safe and comfortable – but it was nice just listening to Minho and Jinki ramble for a while as they played pool, Taemin nipping at his second beer, the whiff of anger he had experienced earlier slowly fading away.

He wanted to give his flat-mates the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they always acted like that around the newbies in their apartment unit; maybe it was some older brother instinct that awakened inside of them. Maybe they had fallen for someone older in their freshman year and it had ended badly for them, so they didn’t want Taemin to repeat their mistakes. Taemin found the latter option doubtful, but he was open to being proven wrong.

The three of them left the hall at 11pm and stopped by a convenience store near their dorm to grab a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips that Taemin had insisted on getting, because he always started to crave greasy food when he drank alcohol. He and Jinki wrestled each other playfully all the way home while Minho carried the plastic bag with their purchases, Taemin way too tipsy to take anything seriously anymore, feeling like laughing at everything, his mood having lightened up after his second bottle of beer.

“How much are you weighing, Taemin?” Jinki asked him when they stumbled through their apartment door, the oldest of the three a little drunk himself, needing to hold onto their shoe cabinet to not fall over when he tried to slip out of his sneakers. 

“Around 56? Maybe – I’m not sure. Why?” He wondered and held onto Minho’s coat as he struggled with his shoelaces, the knot too tight, making it impossible for him to just slip out of them without untying them first. Minho waited patiently for him, holding onto his shoulder when he was about to wobble forward and bump into Jinki. Taemin had barely managed to get his shoes off his feet when Jinki grabbed him without warning and lifted him onto his shoulders as if he was a young child weighing nothing.

“Airplane spin,” he yelled through the apartment, Taemin getting dizzy as the other began walking over to their kitchen and spinning him around as if he were a sack of potatoes. Taemin wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or throw up, everything around him appearing as a blur of colors, his arms helplessly clinging to Jinki’s biceps. The other’s coordination not being the best anymore, they crashed into the fridge and some of the kitchen cabinets several times, Taemin expecting a few new bruises to appear on his body after waking up tomorrow.

“Jinks, be careful,” came the voice of reason in the form of Minho, who had stopped drinking beer after the first bottle and switched over to soda, and now tried to prevent the eldest from knocking over all their kitchenware. He placed the plastic bag on the table before coming over and holding onto Jinki’s hip to make him stop, Taemin feeling like his organs were on a rollercoaster ride, going up and down and left and right, tumbling through his body, not a single one wearing a seatbelt. He was trying to sort his thoughts when he heard a nearby door being opened, the voice he liked hearing the most in this world grabbing his attention.

“Why are you being so loud?” it said, followed by a pause. “Do I even want to know why Taemin is hanging over your shoulders?”

“We’ve wrestled,” Jinki answered in a much calmer tone, as if it was the most normal thing to say, Taemin struggling and clinging to the other’s shirt when he was about to be put back down onto the ground.

“Of course you have,” Jonghyun commented, sounding like he wasn’t even surprised by Jinki’s answer. Who knew, maybe Jinki had thrown Jonghyun over his shoulders once or twice. Taemin wouldn’t put it past someone who participated in breakdance battles when he was drunk.

Taemin’s mind spun and he staggered from side to side when his feet touched the floor, needing to hold onto the countertop behind him to find his balance again.

“How’s your mom?” Minho asked as he went back to the table and let himself fall into one of the chairs, opening the plastic bag to pull out the beer. “Want some?”

With a hum, Jonghyun came over and grabbed one of the cans, looking cute in black sweatpants and a simple oversized white t-shirt. Taemin wanted to go up to him and sling his arms around his waist from behind, wanted to let the other know how much he had missed him and that he would rather have talked anime than cars. 

“She’s doing well.”

“And your sister?” Minho added right away, tugging his feet in when Jonghyun took the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“She’s fine as well.”

Minho looked over to Taemin then, grinning. “Have you seen his sister? She’s super cute. It’s a shame that the cuteness wasn’t passed down to him.”

Taemin begged to differ and came over to the table, running his palm over Jonghyun’s neck before sitting down next to him, the other’s hand naturally finding its way to his inner thigh.

“That’s because she takes after my mother,” Jonghyun replied, surprisingly enough, ignoring Minho’s side blow, elegantly dodging it by complimenting his mother rather than starting a pointless fight.

“Did you have a nice time?” Taemin tried to chime in, skin prickling when Jonghyun’s fingernails caressed his leg, the movement fleeting and aimless and yet incredibly effective. He reached for the bag of chips and tore it open, filling his mouth with a handful, sighing happily when the seasoning spread out on his tongue.

“Yeah, we went grocery shopping and cooked together. It was nice.” Jonghyun’s hand wandered down to Taemin’s knee, holding it like a stick shift. “My sister is thinking about getting a new dog and she has my full support, but my mom is against it, telling her that she can get a dog when she decides to move out.”

Taemin smiled, liking how responsive Jonghyun was, especially when he compared it to the way the other had answered Minho’s questions. It was a small thing but Taemin clung to it, wanting it to mean something. Licking the seasoning from his fingers, he watched Jinki join their little round, taking Minho into a short headlock before sitting down next to him, hair disheveled, sinking so deep into the chair that his legs reached Taemin’s underneath the table.

“So what have you three been up to, apart from throwing Taemin over your shoulders?” Jonghyun wanted to know, while Taemin stole his beer to take a sip from it, purposefully placing his lips where the can had touched Jonghyun’s.

“We took Lover Boy to the pool hall, since he looked like a sad, abandoned puppy.”

“I didn’t,” Taemin protested and straightened up as he gave Jonghyun his beer back. The other took a sip, not even questioning why Taemin hadn’t taken a can himself instead of drinking from his.

“Sad, abandoned puppy?” Jonghyun turned toward Taemin who lowered his head immediately, pulling his beanie a little further into his face. He hadn’t been sad – maybe a little abandoned, but not sad.

“He’s turning more and more into you and you’re not even realizing it, are you?”

There was a certain brassiness in Minho’s tone and Taemin felt like standing up and leaving the room, not in the mood for rewinding the tape to replay a conversation he didn’t want to have in the first place. It didn’t feel like the ‘relationship’ he had with Jonghyun consisted of them alone; Minho and the others were involved in it as well, always trying to voice their opinions on matters that were none of their concern.

“Ming, not again,” Jinki sighed, apparently as fed up with Minho as Taemin was. Jinki was their solid rock in the apartment, unmoving and standing his ground at all times. Taemin deemed it impossible for the other to lose his temper. Jinki seemed like a monk who lived his life in peace and tranquility, only accidentally having stumbled into a dormitory filled with horny university students.

“Again?” Jonghyun raised an eyebrow, placing the can of beer on the table. He wore a bracelet around his left wrist which Taemin hadn’t seen before, small black beads connected with silvery shimmering spacers in between. It made him wonder if Jonghyun had bought it himself or if it happened to be a gift from someone – his mother, his sister, a past lover – maybe?

“Didn’t you know? According to Minho, you are basically [Frieza](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/FluidTatteredDunlin-size_restricted.gif) but with hair,” Taemin said eventually and got up from his chair, wanting to flee before his flat-mate decided to go on another verbal rampage about how Jonghyun wasn’t a good choice in any matters of life. It grew tiresome to listen to the same speech over and over again, the cassette tape already worn out.

“You certainly transformed into a Super Saiyan before,” Jonghyun went along with the joke, making Taemin smile. “What did he say?” he asked then, looking at Taemin instead of asking Minho the question directly, the table feeling like it had split into a tennis court and two opposing teams were competing against each other. But who would get the match ball?

“That he’s obsessing over you and that you are not worth it,” Minho answered him nonchalantly, not an ounce of restraint in his words. Leave it to Minho to not shy away from confrontation. If he had something to say, he came in with drums beating and trumpets sounding, not holding back – at least, when it came to Jonghyun. Taemin wished for Jonghyun to stand up as well, to take his hand and just leave the kitchen with him, or at least defend his honor as he was attacked so ruthlessly, but instead of doing that, the worst thing of all happened – Jonghyun agreed with Minho.

“He’s right, though,” Jonghyun said and drank some more beer. “I’m not sure about the obsessing part, but definitely the not being worth it part. I told you before.”

Getting stabbed in the back by the one person he had trusted the most in all of this felt unpleasant. Taemin silently grabbed the bag of chips and another beer from the plastic bag.

“Good night. Thanks for the beer,” he said at last and went to his room, not wanting to participate in a conversation that seemed so pointless. Let Minho think that Jonghyun wasn’t worth his time, let Jonghyun himself think that he wasn’t worth it – Taemin didn’t care anymore. He could form his own opinion and had made up his mind long ago: Jonghyun was worth it for him; end of discussion. If the other didn’t see his worth, Taemin would gladly help him out with it, seeing it for the both of them. 

He threw himself onto his bed, pulled the beanie off his head, and grabbed his earbuds from the top drawer of his desk, plugging them into his phone to drown out everything and everyone. Turning on [KoЯn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nq9j1qkj2Vc), Taemin hoped that the mix of distorted guitars and screamed vocals would help him to take his mind off things, head falling onto his pillow, hand gliding back into the bag of chips. But no matter how much Jonathan Davis yelled into his ears, it didn’t help, and he was simply rotting in vain, eating chips and sipping his beer. He had reached track 9 on their latest album, _The Serenity of Suffering_ – the title having become something like a life motto, paradoxically enough – when the door to his room opened and a mop of brown hair appeared, belonging to a person who didn’t seem to realize his worth.

Taemin didn’t bother to remove the earbuds when Jonghyun closed the door behind himself and came over to the bed with a beer can in his hand, nudging Taemin’s leg to make him move over. After skidding closer to the wall, Jonghyun lay down next to him and stole the earbud closest to him instead of saying anything, the two of them listening to the words _‘I love the way you hurt me, I love that you don’t care’_ with their arms and legs touching. Taemin felt weirdly exposed when he thought about the lyrics, wondering once again if he had masochistic tendencies he hadn’t been aware of, speculating whether Jonghyun became more attractive to him the more he insisted that they were just friends – friends who knew their way around each other’s body but seemed so far away from each other emotionally.

_‘My love is dark and twisted and I scream when you’re not here...’_

Taemin breathed in deeply, gulping his beer down, waiting for Jonghyun to say something. But the other didn’t do him that favor, kept perfectly quiet, and mimicked Taemin by drinking some beer as well. Why had he come to Taemin’s room, if not to talk? Why had it taken him so long to follow? Had he spoken with Minho and Jinki? Taemin was curious but didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Jonghyun right now, as he knew that it would only lead to him getting even more upset, the conversation at the table having sobered him up.

When Jonghyun lifted his beer for another sip, Taemin stole a glance at the bracelet again and reached out to touch it, fingers wandering over the beads and slipping underneath to pull at the elastic, stretching it.

“New?” he asked.

“ _Mmh_ –” was the answer he received. “My sister got it for me. Apparently, it’s for good health and luck.”

“Your sister seems nice,” Taemin said as he continued to play with the bracelet, music blaring into one of his ears.

“She’s the best.”

She must have been, as Jonghyun even used her as the background on his phone. Taemin wanted to know, not for the first time, how much one had to be loved by Jonghyun to receive this kind of privilege. With a thoughtful grin, Taemin’s fingers went over to pull at the dark hairs of the other’s underarm, Jonghyun not seeming to mind as he didn’t make a move to pull away.

“I haven’t listened to KoЯn in ages. Is it a new album?”

Taemin gave a little nod and turned onto his side, leaning over Jonghyun to place his beer can on the desk, earbud slipping out of his ear and plopping down on Jonghyun’s forehead.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a grin and picked it up, face hovering over the other’s. Looking at Jonghyun’s lips for a second too long sparked that pleasant sensation in his tummy that he always experienced when they kissed; an automatism, Taemin reacting like Pavlov’s dog, wanting to lean down and melt their lips together.

“Were you rebellious as a teenager?” Jonghyun set his beer down on the desk as well, then his hand reached forward to tug a strand of hair behind Taemin’s ear.

Taemin shook his head. “Not really. I was the quiet kid who didn’t like causing trouble.”

“Sounds like you.” A grin played around Jonghyun’s lips, and Taemin wanted to stick the tips of his fingers into the corners to make it wider.

“But I was a very tough kindergartner. I was always the smallest, but went around biting people who annoyed me,” Taemin explained and let his upper body settle onto Jonghyun’s, unable to resist the pull in his stomach any longer, feeling the chips bag crunch between their bodies as he squashed it with his weight.

“You went around biting people?” Jonghyun began to laugh, the sound a balm for Taemin’s soul as his cheek rested against the other’s chest. “I would have bitten back.” As if for emphasis, Jonghyun grabbed Taemin’s arm, pulled it toward his mouth and bit into it – not soft or gently as Taemin had anticipated, but with so much force that Taemin clenched his fist with a cut-off groan, a pleasant throb shooting through his arm and the imprint of Jonghyun’s teeth visible in his skin when the other let go again.

“What was that for?” he asked, bewildered, lifting his arm to take a closer look, fingers running over the bite, slightly reddish in color and wet with saliva. The imprint was so clear that even the slightly crooked position of one of Jonghyun’s bottom teeth was visible. It was cute, and if it had been possible, Taemin would have gotten the bite tattooed right then and there.

“No reason.” Jonghyun gave a slight shoulder shrug.

“ ‘No reason,’ ” Taemin repeated in a whisper, nails scratching at one of the dents, as if that would make it disappear. _No reason._ There were a lot of things Jonghyun seemed to be doing without reason, one of them being ‘playing with Taemin’s heart’. Taemin wasn’t sure if he did it intentionally or if that was just who he was. There were people like that: going around, living their life, turning people’s heads, being friendly with everyone, letting people feel special, letting them feel like they were the only person in the world that mattered to them.

Taemin recalled Kibum’s words: how he believed that Jonghyun had been more in love with the idea of Kibum than with the person Kibum actually was and that Jonghyun wouldn’t be the person Taemin wanted him to be. But what kind of person did he want Jonghyun to be? Taemin hadn’t thought about that once. Why should he, when Jonghyun didn’t want to be that person anyway?

“Were you rebellious?”

Taemin lifted himself and rolled back into his spot, propping himself up on his elbow to be able to take a proper look at the man lying next to him.

“I was an awful teenager,” Jonghyun said and turned his head toward the younger. “I had so much internalized anger. I feel sorry for my mom, that she had to live with me.” He grabbed the crushed bag of chips and held its opening in front of him to take a look inside, fishing out a few small pieces, which he threw into his mouth and munched loudly.

“Anger?”

Jonghyun nodded, tossed the bag onto the desk, and wiped his fingers on his sweatpants. “Child of divorce, growing up poor, realizing that you are gay and that this fact alone makes some people hate you – there are a lot of things one can be angry at, and I always thought everything was my fault.”

Taemin didn’t know what else to say besides a simple hum, unable to relate to any of these feelings. Jonghyun rarely spoke about his past, as if it was something he didn’t like to think about; a chapter he had ripped out of a book and burned years ago.

“ _Hm_.” Jonghyun parroted, Taemin finding a grin on his lips when he looked at him. It felt fake but Taemin went with it.

“ _Hm. Hm_ ,” Taemin repeated, grinning as well when Jonghyun’s hand darted forward to pull him closer by the neck.

“ _Hm. Hm. Hm_.” Jonghyun moved his head from left to right as he added more syllables, their faces close to each other, and Taemin finally gave in, pressing his lips to Jonghyun’s. He wasn’t sure if Jonghyun had wanted to distract him from asking further questions or not, but whatever his intention was, it worked, Taemin’s tongue quickly finding its way into Jonghyun’s mouth and his hands under the other’s t-shirt.

* * *

It was a week later when Jinki sent a text to their group chat, suggesting they visit a club together to celebrate semester break and the freedom they had as university students. Taemin, who had slowly grown tired of gaming all day, was all ears, liking the thought of dancing with Jonghyun in a stuffy club and getting drunk on booze the older ones bought him. He didn’t even need to worry about Jonghyun disappearing with Kibum anymore, the other having spent most of his semester break out of the dorm thus far. Taemin doubted that his conversation with Kibum had anything to do with it, but he was glad to see their flat-mate parading around the apartment less frequently.

Taemin was sitting in bed, back leaning against his wardrobe, when Jinki’s text arrived, and his gaze shifted toward Jonghyun, whose head was resting in his lap, both of them on their phones.

“Did you read Jinki’s text? He knows I’m not into clubbing anymore,” Jonghyun huffed and stretched in Taemin’s lap, the blanket that had been covering his naked chest slipping down to his navel. 

“I’m sure it will be fun. You can buy me drinks.”

Taemin nudged the other playfully before putting his smartphone aside to let his fingers dance over Jonghyun’s biceps and down his arm, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as his hand came close to Jonghyun’s pierced nipple. The wound had healed surprisingly well and the other had stopped covering it with patches a week after getting it. According to Jonghyun, it was still very tender, but Taemin enjoyed just looking at it and fantasizing about all the things he could be doing once it had fully healed. It was a pity that he still had to be so careful around the piercing, though. He wasn’t even allowed to touch it, let alone abuse the piece of skin the way he used to.

“I’m not your sugar daddy,” Jonghyun japed and looked up at Taemin with a smirk. The younger one faked a pout in response, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles around the areola, seeing the skin tightening. “You like it, don’t you?”

“I do,” Taemin replied honestly and nodded. “It looks sexy.”

He watched Jonghyun stretch with a long sigh, the muscles in his upper body nicely visible as he moved. Taemin had to admit that he had started to envy the other for his physique. He loved the broad shoulders and the small waist, everything so well defined and trained, a total contrast to his own lanky frame that still awkwardly tumbled between adolescence and adulthood, with too many spots on his body that Jonghyun fondly labeled as ‘baby fat’ and Taemin hated.

“Do you miss vaginas and boobs sometimes?”

The random question interrupted Taemin’s thoughts and he looked from the muscles in Jonghyun’s abdomen up to his face with questioning eyes.

“Huh?” he replied dumbly, Jonghyun’s eyes narrowing as he began to smile.

“I asked whether you miss sleeping with women, or did you go all ‘Once you turn dick, you never turn chick again’?”

Jonghyun pulled his left leg up, the blanket slipping even lower and Taemin’s eyes automatically casting downward again.

“That sounds weird,” Taemin commented, eyes wandering over the veins on Jonghyun’s lower body. “Why choose one type of Skittle if you can taste the whole rainbow?” he continued thoughtfully. It was true. There were so many beautiful people out there and Taemin simply didn’t want to choose. 

“That’s probably the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Taemin felt one of Jonghyun’s hands reach over to grab his, their fingers naturally intertwining. A tiny smile graced Taemin’s lips as he watched how perfectly their hands fit together, his thumb gently stroking over the back of Jonghyun’s. Wasn’t this tiny gesture proof enough – proof of Jonghyun’s feelings for him? No matter how much Jonghyun tried to deny it and convince Taemin that they were just friends with benefits, holding hands wasn’t covered in this arrangement – or was it? Friends with benefits fucked and didn’t spend hours cuddling in bed, holding hands.

“How many women have you slept with?” Jonghyun shifted in Taemin’s lap, pulling the blanket up to his chest again.

“Why would you want to know that?” Taemin asked in response, his hand moving over to Jonghyun’s other nipple and poking it.

“I’m just curious. I’ve never slept with one.” Jonghyun turned around then, his face at eye-level with Taemin’s boxers.

“Does it matter?”

“Not really. Like I said, I’m just curious. If it makes you uncomfortable, just tell me,” Jonghyun said, his fingers reaching forward to stroke along the elastic of Taemin’s red-checkered boxer shorts.

“No, it doesn’t,” he answered after a moment, sucking in his breath when the other’s fingers glided over the front of the fabric, opening the little button in the middle. “How many men have you slept with, then?” he retorted instead of answering, his eyes falling shut when two of Jonghyun’s fingers slipped inside to tease him.

Taemin heard a low laugh ring in his ears and felt the feathery touch of fingers on his cock, grazing his sensitive skin. “A few.”

This response made Taemin snort and he looked down at his crotch, watching how Jonghyun pulled his dick out, fondling it between his fingers as if it were some kind of toy. 

“You can’t even remember how many there were?”

“Of course I can.” He sounded offended. “I’m not like Kibum.”

Taemin licked his bottom lip when Jonghyun’s thumb ran over his glans in circles, almost making it appear like he was seeing a dick for the first time in his life.

“How many, then?” He stayed persistent, feeling himself getting hard under the inspecting touch.

A pause.

“You are number 53.”

“ _53?_ ” Taemin squeaked in shock, head lolling back against the wardrobe as Jonghyun leaned in and stuck his tongue out, lapping at the underside of his dick.

“Do you think that’s a lot?”

Eyes looked up at him, tongue licking around the head of his cock like it was a lollipop. It looked so obscene that Taemin only felt himself getting harder at the sight.

“You _don’t_ think that’s a lot?”

“Why are you answering all my questions with new questions today?” Jonghyun grinned and pressed his lips against him, the tip of his tongue nudging against the small slit at the top. A soft groan fell from Taemin’s lips and his hand automatically reached forward to fist Jonghyun’s hair, pulling at it, his dick slipping out of the other’s mouth. “I’ve never been in a relationship, and my first year of university – was,” Jonghyun cocked his head. “Let’s say it was a little wild. That was before Minho and Kibum moved in,” he added for clarification, and Taemin remembered how Kibum had told him that Jinki probably had a lot of stories to tell about Jonghyun. Was this one of those?

“One of our former flat-mates, Donghoon, knew about this gay club in the suburbs, and he somewhat took me under his wing and brought me there one night. The club closed while I was off in the military, but I had a good time there. Do you know that Disney song, ‘A Whole New World’?” Jonghyun began to strike up the song, singing a few words of it before quieting down again. “A whole new world opened up to me there, and I went to that club every single weekend. I basically lived there and went home with every guy I found attractive.” He said it so casually that Taemin couldn’t help but stare at him. “But when Donghoon graduated I kind of lost interest in going, and, you know, Kibum happened, so I took a step back from that kind of lifestyle. However, it was fun as long as it lasted. I don’t regret it.”

53 people? Sex with 53 people? Taemin was number 53 on his list?

For a moment Taemin wondered how many dicks Jonghyun’s lips had already sucked on, and he didn’t know whether the thought disgusted or aroused him. Before he could say anything, Jonghyun had tucked his half-hard cock back in and closed the small white button on the front of his boxers, patting it in an appreciative manner, a dissatisfied little pout gracing Taemin’s lips.

“Are you still in contact with Donghoon?”

Jonghyun rested his head against one thigh, his fingers tracing circles on the other one. “Sporadically. He works for Samsung now.”

Taemin didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “Was he one of those 53 people as well?”

He received a laugh in response. “No, he was actually dating Jinki at the time. The two of them had a bad break-up, so that’s how I came up with my ‘no fucking where I sleep and eat’ theory,” Jonghyun told him and tried to pinch the fat on Taemin’s inner thigh. “I think Donghoon just took pity on me. He always called me his gay lost son. He was a cool dude back then; nowadays he’s too focused on his career. Meeting up with him feels like attending a business meeting.” His voice quietened down, made him appear almost absent. “It’s weird how working life changes people. As if everyone gets pressed into the same mold, needing to fit in. I don’t want that to happen to me.”

Jonghyun sighed loudly and ran his palm up and down Taemin’s leg, the pressure so pleasant that it almost felt like a massage.

Taemin had always believed in destiny, and even now he thought that it might have been destiny for him to move into this specific unit, with these specific people, who were so different from everything he knew from his life in a small town but had been so welcoming and had made him open his eyes to new things, let him accept things about himself that he hadn’t been ready to think about back at home.

“So, now that I’ve told you how many men I’ve slept with, don’t you think it’s only fair to tell me how many women you’ve slept with?”

Jonghyun sat up and settled down sideways between Taemin’s legs, leaning his back against the wall. The younger still hesitated, fumbling with the hem of his baggy t-shirt, eyelids fluttering.

“Two,” he said finally and held up two fingers. “I can count them on one hand. I mean – I had more than two girlfriends, but it only went beyond holding hands with two of them,” he faltered and cleared his throat, feeling like a complete underachiever.

“Why do you sound embarrassed? There is no need to. It’s just sex, Taemin-ah. If you were still a virgin, it wouldn’t matter either.” A soft chuckle. “At least you cared about the people you’ve slept with and liked them; that’s admirable. No need to feel ashamed for not fucking around, Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun said encouragingly, letting the back of his hand glide along Taemin’s neck, fingers closing around his nape. “I only received a very dissatisfying handjob before entering university, and it was from someone I didn’t even know. Just a random drunk stranger at a birthday party. It wasn’t like a first time should be, so I envy you for having your first time with someone you probably really liked,” Jonghyun pondered, massaging Taemin’s neck gently.

“If you put it like that, I had two first times. As far as I remember, my second first time was also with someone who was slightly drunk during a party, right?”

Taemin turned his head to look at Jonghyun, who smiled at him and nodded, fingers stroking up his cervical spine.

“Do you regret it?”

“What?” Taemin asked back, lowering his head so it was easier for Jonghyun to rub his fingers into his nape.

“Do you regret sleeping with me that night?”

 _Every day and every night,_ he wanted to say at first, but he knew that he would be lying, not only to Jonghyun but to himself.

“No, I don’t,” he said simply and closed his eyes when Jonghyun’s fingers rubbed small circles into his skin. He felt goosebumps forming on his arms, muscles moving under Jonghyun’s touch. When Jonghyun didn’t say anything else, Taemin looked up again, finding the other’s eyes fixed on his neck.

“Everything okay?” he asked carefully, watching as Jonghyun blinked and then looked back at him, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Yeah, all is good. I was just thinking –” Jonghyun didn’t finish his sentence and shook his head instead. To Taemin’s utter surprise, he climbed into the younger’s lap and slung his legs around him, arms coming around his neck. A little startled, Taemin’s arms wrapped around the other’s waist automatically, his head tilting.

“So, what does it feel like to have sex with a woman?”

Taemin blinked. “Why? Want to try it out?”

Jonghyun shook his head immediately, hands coming around to settle on Taemin’s cheeks.

“Oh no, I find vaginas incredibly scary, but I’m still curious. Enlighten me,” he explained with a cheeky grin, thumb stroking along Taemin’s bottom lip.

Taemin wasn’t quite sure what the other was up to with all these seemingly bizarre questions, but he just went with it, hoping to find out what Jonghyun’s real intentions were. It was Jonghyun, after all, who always came up with the most random questions.

“Girls are soft – I mean, all over. It feels nice touching them, and they always smell good,” Taemin began, trying to remember how it had felt to be with a girl. It certainly had been a while. “It’s very warm between their legs. It’s a nice feeling. It’s different but also similar to being with a man. I don’t know. It’s easier – I mean, if the girl is aroused.”

He had to pause as he felt his ears turning hot. “It’s just easier to have sex, in general. It takes more patience and effort to have sex with a guy, more preparation – I mean, if we’re talking about penetration. I mean, if you don’t want to hurt them, I guess. I don’t know. Never really thought about it,” he continued awkwardly, feeling himself stutter, which only made him more nervous. Having sex and talking about sex were two very different things, and while he didn’t have to look at Jonghyun while sexting, it felt weird talking about it with the other sitting in his lap. He knew that it shouldn’t feel weird, but he couldn’t help it, his eyes focused on the little mole between Jonghyun’s collarbones, his hands soothingly rubbing along the other’s hips.

“Which do you like more: having sex with your girlfriends or with me?” Jonghyun asked then, seemingly not minding how red Taemin’s face must have looked, though the younger could feel the heat on his cheeks and forehead.

“With you.” There wasn’t even a second of hesitation in Taemin’s reply and he lifted his head, looking into Jonghyun’s amused face.

“Why?”

Jonghyun’s fingers ran up Taemin’s temples and into his hair, combing it.

“You tell me exactly what you want and don’t want.”

“Am I too dominant?” Jonghyun cocked an eyebrow, fingers coming to a halt on Taemin’s scalp.

“No, not at all. That’s not it. I mean, you _are_ dominant sometimes, but other times you aren’t at all. It’s a good mixture. What I meant was that I don’t have to grope in the dark to figure out what you like. You are very vocal about the stuff you like, and I appreciate that” Taemin clarified, hands running up Jonghyun’s broad back, liking how the muscles felt underneath his fingertips.

“And your girlfriends weren’t?”

Taemin shook his head, palms stroking over Jonghyun’s shoulder blades before he stilled and held onto them.

“Sounds tough.”

“It was.”

There was a little sigh and Taemin let his head sink back against the wall as he thought about all the frustration he had experienced in the past, fingertips running along Jonghyun’s spine, feeling every bump beneath his skin. He shuddered when the older one leaned forward to his ear and whispered, “Hey, I think I know what I want to do right now.”

Taemin’s grip tightened instinctively and he looked at Jonghyun, a teasing smirk itching at the corner of his lips.

“How about less talking and more doing?” he heard himself say, unsure whether he would ever be able to bring Jonghyun to want more from him than just sex. It was an exhausting game they were playing – at least, to him it was – since he was the one using his heart as a stake.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 6 is on its way. ^^
> 
> tw// mentions of violence (please don't get confused, this fic doesn't turn into a horror story, but in the first scene of chapter 6 Jonghyun and Taemin talk about a horror movie - Human centipede - which contains violence/gore) so please read with caution if you are uncomfortable with this sort of thing. 
> 
> Like always, if you want to read anything about the background of this story or have any questions, please check out my carrd with links to tumblr and twitter. ^^
> 
> Have a lovely day/week!

_‘Friends with Benefits - Sure to fail?_ ’ read the headline of the seventh article Taemin clicked on after searching for the term online, his body slouched in front of his desk with his head propped up in his hand. No matter the article he looked at, no matter the search engine he used, no matter the language he typed his questions in, every result seemed to come to the same conclusion: friends with benefits rarely worked. If it did, it was because there had been rules established in the beginning to keep any form of emotional attachment away. But what if the emotional attachment had been there right from the start?

Taemin scrolled through the website until he reached a caption that read _’10 golden rules of having sex with a friend,_ ’ and by skimming them, he was forced to acknowledge that he was literally _fucked_. ‘ _Define clear rules from the start’, ‘Talk to each other openly’, ‘Avoid couple-like behavior’, ‘Don’t get too invested’, ‘Pay attention to warning signals’, ‘Give each other room to breathe’,_ and so the list continued, each rule having a paragraph of explanation attached to it.

> _Do you find yourself having romantic daydreams more and more often?_
> 
> _Then that’s a clear ‘red flag’ and a sign that you should take a break or even end the relationship entirely._
> 
> _Sharing food, holding hands, or kisses in-between? These are absolute NO-GOs, especially in public. Or is that something you would do with other friends? Go through your text conversations and see if it’s a conversation between two friends or a couple freshly in love? Doing this will help you to see if it’s time for you to shift down a gear and concentrate a little more on your friendship._

Shift down a gear?

Taemin was in the sixth gear and had lost control over the car with no time to slow down, the wall right in front of him, a crash inevitable.

What Jonghyun and he had wasn’t something like ‘ _friends with benefits,’_ it was Taemin being in an imaginary relationship with Jonghyun, who apparently had no idea how friends with benefits worked, as he hadn’t done anything similar before either. Instead of Taemin, Jonghyun _should have been_ the one browsing articles on the topic; maybe he _should have been_ the one questioning everything they were doing, because Taemin was the one _slowly_ losing himself.

 _Slowly_ might be an understatement. Taemin was in freefall, not wearing a parachute. It was hard to describe what he was going through, his heart constantly aching as it longed to be with Jonghyun’s but was refused entrance each time he knocked on its door. The burden seemed to grow heavier the more he tried to overcome the obstacles that were thrown his way, his emotions overwhelming him. He wasn’t used to being so in his head that his judgment was clouded; that his decision-making was based on what Jonghyun would think or feel. He had always been on the other side of the spectrum, with people catering toward _his_ needs, wanting to make _him_ feel good, taking care of _his_ feelings. Both sides of the coin were unhealthy, but tails had allowed him to sleep peacefully at night while heads made him lose his. What love potion had Jonghyun given him, that he was acting like Ron Weasley in the _Goblet of Fire_?

When Taemin had first come to Seoul, he had felt like an adult, who was capable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions, but all that had changed in the span of a few months, and what was left of him was a kid in desperate need of guidance. He didn’t want to let go of Jonghyun, _couldn’t_ let go of him, but he had run out of options, not knowing what else he could do to make Jonghyun see him the way he wanted. There seemed to be nothing that could impress the other, everything Taemin did annotated with a ‘ _You’re cute, Taemin-ah,_ ’ as if that was what he wanted to hear.

What young adult wanted to hear that they were cute?

Not a single one.

Taemin hated the word _cute_ , because it made him feel like he wasn’t being taken seriously, but he didn’t have the guts to voice his discomfort out loud, afraid that he would only be laughed at. ‘ _It’s just a word, Taemin-ah. Don’t take it so seriously.’_

As the door to his room opened, he turned in his swivel chair, hand instantly closing his laptop when he saw Jonghyun peeking inside.

“You really aren’t a fan of knocking, are you?” Taemin asked, the sheepish smile sent his way making his heart flutter.

It was unfair, really. _He_ wanted to be the one making other people’s hearts flutter.

“Sorry,” Jonghyun said in English and bowed his head in apology before leaving the room again, the door falling shut with a clicking noise. There was a treacherous knock only seconds later and Taemin chuckled, inviting the other in.

Jonghyun walked straight over to Taemin’s bed and let himself fall into it, getting comfortable with his head resting on the mattress and his arms hugging Taemin’s pillow. It felt so natural to have Jonghyun in his bed and watch him lazing around like a cat in the sun that Taemin had a hard time remembering what the bed had looked like without him in it.

“What’s up?”

“I want to watch a movie, but I don’t want to watch it alone,” Jonghyun replied with a little cutesy whine at the end of each word and crumpled the pillow as he pressed it against his chin, half his face hidden behind it, his dark brown eyes appearing much bigger as they peered over it. Jonghyun was acting cute, which meant that he wanted something from Taemin. The thought amused him, considering that Jonghyun knew he could treat him like trash and Taemin would still kneel down in front of him, beg for his attention and become his willing slave.

“Should I feel honored that I’m the first you’re coming to, or have you already asked the others and they turned you down?” Taemin speculated and stood up.

One step forward and his shins hit the bed frame. Jonghyun made no attempt to make some room for him, so Taemin took the opportunity to climb on top of the other, trapping his body between his legs, resting his weight on Jonghyun’s crotch.

Jonghyun set the pillow aside to place his hands on Taemin’s thighs, thumbs rubbing into the fabric of his sweats as he said, “You’re the first. There wasn’t a point in asking any of the others; they wouldn’t want to watch the movie anyway.”

“Why is that?” Taemin wanted to know, fingers slipping underneath Jonghyun’s oversized black t-shirt and touching warm skin, a grin playing on his lips. “Is it _hentai_?”

Jonghyun shouldn’t let him do that. _Shouldn’t let_ Taemin do with him as he pleased, _shouldn’t let_ him sit on his dick and _let_ his hands roam freely on his body without any boundaries, well aware of his feelings – but Jonghyun _let_ him. If Taemin were to take out his dick and fuck Jonghyun’s mouth as he lay there on the mattress, he was convinced the other would _let_ him do that as well, and Taemin didn’t know why. Was it because he cared? Was it because they hadn’t established any type of rules concerning Jonghyun’s proclaimed ‘ _friends with benefits’_ agenda, or was it because Jonghyun was a bit of a nymph, who had an insatiable sexual appetite that wasn’t easily appeased, so he went along with everything Taemin suggested?

Ever since their talk the other day, the number 53 had been floating through Taemin’s head, and as desperately as he tried to tell himself that it was just a number that didn’t mean anything, he was intimidated by it. On a scale of 1 to 53, how would Jonghyun rank the sex they had? On a scale of 1 to 53, how would Jonghyun rank Taemin giving head? On a scale of 1 to 53, how would Jonghyun rank him eating ass? Would he be in the higher ranks, somewhere in the middle, or the tail light?

Was there a point in wanting to know about all of that? No, of course not, but Taemin had lost all common sense somewhere between the first time he had slept with Jonghyun and now, and he couldn’t keep himself from thinking about it every time they were together.

“Judging from the synopsis, it’s some very fucked-up indie film,” Jonghyun said, fingers drifting down Taemin’s legs until they hooked into the elastic of his sweatpants’ cuffs, grazing his ankles.

Taemin cocked his head, thumb aimlessly rubbing along the stubble growing beneath Jonghyun’s belly button. “And you think I’m into fucked-up and disgusting movies?”

“You watch very questionable _hentai_ videos. I’m sure nothing can faze you,” Jonghyun teased him, hands coming up to hold onto his waist.

“I shouldn’t have told you that, right?”

Jonghyun shook his head with a smug grin. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have.”

Taemin grimaced and stuck his tongue out, which earned him a light chuckle, the older one sitting up to wrap his arms around him.

“What’s the title? Maybe I’ve heard of it before.” Taemin couldn’t stop touching Jonghyun’s hair as he sat in his lap, fingers threading through the strands, the roots a dark black that transitioned into a chocolate brown. It was very soft despite getting colored all the time, and Taemin wondered what it would feel like to touch Jonghyun’s hair in its natural state. Would it feel even softer? Would it make the other look different?

“‘ _The_ _Human Centipede’_. Does that ring a bell?”

In fact it did, Taemin remembering vividly how he had stumbled upon the trailer in YouTube’s recommendation list in the middle of the night, after watching a clip about the best jump scares in movie history to help him fall asleep.

“Is that the one with that crazy scientist who kidnaps tourists and seams them together?” he asked.

Jonghyun chuckled as he nodded and pressed his face into Taemin’s shirt. “Of course you would know it. Why am I not even surprised?” He looked up at Taemin, chin resting against his sternum, face cute and kissable, while Taemin suppressed the urge to pin him to the mattress. “Have you seen it?”

Taemin shook his head as he grabbed Jonghyun’s hair with both hands to form a small ponytail at the top of his scalp that resembled a yucca palm. “The reviews were so bad. I didn’t see the thrill in watching three people sewn together at their mouths and asses for over an hour. It probably gets boring after five minutes.” Taemin wished he had a scrunchie at hand to put in Jonghyun’s hair, thinking that it might make him look even cuter.

“Marijuana is legal in the Netherlands, right?” Jonghyun asked. “Who knows how much the director smoked before writing that movie?”

With a snicker Taemin let go of Jonghyun’s hair and smoothed it, returning it to the state it had been in before his attempts at styling it. “Too much, probably. Still want to watch it?”

“If it sucks, we can still turn it off and do something else.”

‘ _Fucking, right? You mean fucking’_ , Taemin thought to himself as he got up and opened his laptop, turning it away from prying eyes, so Jonghyun couldn’t see the website open in his browser window. They were _just_ friends, watching a movie together, which was good. It was an innocent endeavor, totally in line with the article he had read.

He closed the tab with the article and opened a new one instead, looking for a stream for the movie and finding one without much difficulty. Unfortunately, there were no Korean subs – only English ones – and Taemin’s interest tumbled down to zero. He wouldn't understand anything, following English subtitles for more than a few minutes – a bigger horror than any blood or gore displayed on the screen. But Jonghyun wanted to watch it, which automatically made Taemin want to see it too, since it would mean that they got to spend time together – and spending time with Jonghyun was something Taemin wanted to do all the time.

He had expected the movie to be bad, but not _that_ bad, his brain already losing focus after the five minute mark and his head aching from trying to follow the protagonists’ conversation. He had barely understood 10% of the dialogue so far, but the scenery helped him to grasp the general concept. There were two American tourists who got lost in a German forest and ended up ringing the doorbell of the only house far and wide. _Shocking_. Never done before.

Head leaning against the wall, his eyes darted back and forth between the laptop screen and Jonghyun, who had grabbed some ice cream from the kitchen while Taemin was looking for a stream and now treated the spoon in his hand like someone’s dick. If there was such a thing as _spoon-envy_ , Taemin was definitely experiencing it as he stared at Jonghyun turning the spoon in his mouth and pulling it out slowly, making sure to get every bit of vanilla ice cream into his mouth.

“Want some? It tastes like you.” Jonghyun teased and held the ice cream tub and the spoon toward him, the action totally harmless and innocent, a complete contrast to the thoughts occupying Taemin’s mind. He was surprised how easily Jonghyun had misinterpreted his gawking – or maybe he had done it deliberately. The ice cream was soft and tasty when he tried it, but all Taemin could think about was how Jonghyun’s lips had touched the spoon before him and how the two of them were sharing food.

“German sounds kind of poetic, doesn’t it?”

Taemin frowned, casting a glance at the laptop screen, where the crazy German doctor with the sadistic tendencies was talking to someone on the phone, sounding anything but poetic.

“ _Poetic_? It sounds like someone is getting thrown into a shredder.” Taemin took a second spoonful and then gave Jonghyun the tub back, their fingers brushing along each other, Taemin liking the tingling it left in his fingertips. He wanted to grab the other’s hand and take it into his, but let it be. Friends didn’t hold hands.

“You think? _Huh_ – I don’t know; I always thought it sounded nice. It’s the language of poets and thinkers, no?”

“Still sounds ugly to me.” Taemin shrugged and grabbed his pillow to push it behind his back.

“I attended a German class during my freshman year but dropped out after the second week. Too much homework,” Jonghyun said with a grin and ate one final spoonful of ice cream before putting the tub on the desk, leaving it to melt. “Which reminds me,” he started then and placed one of his legs over Taemin’s. “I once sucked a German guy’s dick on the toilet of that club I’ve told you about. It was the first time I’d seen an uncircumcised penis in real life. Do you remember Squirmles? Those fuzzy worms on a string? It looked like that – less fuzzy, though.” Jonghyun wiggled his forefinger around while laughing.

Taemin didn’t laugh along and instead pictured a tall German guy whose dick was probably bigger than his own. There were all these sayings about sex and penis sizes, starting from ‘ _Size doesn’t matter’_ to ‘ _Even a small clown can work in the big top_ ’ to ‘ _It ain’t all about the size of the boat, it’s about the motion in the ocean,’_ and even if there might be some truth to that, Taemin clearly couldn’t compete with a foreigner’s dick. He was average – not small, not big, simply _average_ – but compared to a foreigner? Taemin suddenly felt like he carried a pencil around in his pants.

“Gosh, I can’t even remember how we communicated? His Korean was shit and so was my English,” Jonghyun continued while Taemin watched dicks of different sizes and shapes and colors fly around in his head. “I guess hand and foot communication are good enough if you know what you want.”

It was bizarre how Jonghyun casually talked about sex with a foreigner while the doctor on Taemin’s laptop spoke about his great vision of a human centipede to the three hostages, who were cuffed to hospital beds in his basement, while showing them a photo of three Rottweilers sewn together. Though Taemin had no idea why Jonghyun had brought up sucking someone’s dick in a club, he’d never really been jealous when Jonghyun mentioned other men he’d had sex with in the past – as long as those men weren’t Kibum – but there was still a slight twinge in his chest, one he couldn’t help. Maybe it was a normal feeling to have when one was in love or he was just in denial, not wanting to admit how much it hurt to hear Jonghyun talk about other men; Taemin didn’t know.

“Do you still remember some German?” he asked to change the topic.

Jonghyun shook his head in response. “ _Nein_ , not really. I can introduce myself and count to 10; that’s about it. Maybe I should pick it up again sometime. I always enjoyed German literature and poetry. Would be fun to be able to read it in the language it was originally written in.”

Without batting an eye, Taemin watched as the doctor went to work on his patients and only turned his head when Jonghyun leaned toward him to hide his face behind Taemin’s shoulder, shielding his eyes, muttering, “Oh gosh, that’s gross. How can you even come up with that?” over and over again, making Taemin snicker.

“You can’t really see anything. There isn’t even blood,” Taemin argued as the scene cut and transitioned to the next, his hand slipping down to Jonghyun’s leg, stroking his thigh reassuringly.

“There isn’t always a need for gore to make something disgusting, Taemin-ah. Your senses are just dulled.”

Taemin found it endearing when Jonghyun peeked over his shoulder to make sure that nothing repulsive was shown before he straightened up again.

“Imagine waking up with a person’s mouth sewn to your butt.”

“I mean, I love eating ass, but no thank you. You are gross,” Jonghyun replied, the two of them watching the doctor’s masterpiece slowly coming back to its senses in a kennel. “Speaking of which –”

“Speaking of _me_ being gross?”

Jonghyun began to laugh and placed his hand against Taemin’s nape, massaging it lightly.

“No,” he said, “I wanted to talk about Minho.”

“Minho?” Taemin blinked and let his head fall forward a little, indicating that Jonghyun should continue to press his fingers into his skin, his neck and shoulders tightly wound ever since he had started studying at university. 

He hadn’t thought he would ever actively talk about Minho with Jonghyun again.

“Yeah, during breakfast that big mouth showed me the insta profile of some guy he intends to hook up with tonight. He didn’t show you?”

A low moan escaped Taemin’s lips as Jonghyun found a particularly good spot, his eyes watering as a second hand joined the first and began to rub his shoulders. He was so caught up in the sensations that it took him a moment to register what Jonghyun had even said, a surprised _‘Oh’_ falling from his lips. All he could think of and hope for was that Minho, perhaps, had taken his words at the pool hall to heart and was trying to conquer someone else now. It would be one less problem on his long list of ‘ _things going wrong in Taemin’s life_ ’.

“Did he try to get into your pants recently?”

Taemin hiked up his shoulders as the sensation wavered between nice and almost too painful, Jonghyun pressing one of his hands against his nape to fix him in place while the other rubbed against a knot beneath his shoulder blade, Taemin feeling the muscle move underneath his skin.

“Actively?” Taemin asked. “No. Verbally – plenty of times.”

He had forgotten all about the movie, only vaguely perceiving the voices coming through the speakers as his eyes were closed, goosebumps on his skin.

“Are you tempted?” Jonghyun continued to knead into his back.

Taemin wanted to snort and call him ignorant for even asking this question, wondering what made Jonghyun think that he would waste a single thought on Minho when Jonghyun was sitting right next to him.

“Would you care if I was?” Taemin gnawed on his lips, hands folded in his lap as Jonghyun’s hand glided upwards again, fingers threading through his hair, pulling at it, forcing Taemin to lift his head.

“Taemin, I want you to enjoy yourself,” came the answer he expected but didn’t want to hear.

Taemin had always thought the main issue that made it impossible for them to be together was Kibum, but that wasn’t it. Kibum was one of many reasons; the tip of the iceberg. Jonghyun didn’t care enough about Taemin – that was the problem. Everything else was a _bonus_ , another small hindrance; a hurdle thrown into his way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He turned his head to look at the other.

“That means that you can choose to be with whoever you want as long as you do it safely,” Jonghyun answered him diplomatically, sending another arrow flying right into Taemin’s chest. Taemin wished for nothing more than for the other to be jealous and tell him that the mere thought of seeing him with Minho tore him apart. But that wasn’t the Jonghyun he had come to know.

“I want to be with you and you know that,” he said in a stern tone, looking at Jonghyun with a pounding heart. A long sigh fell from Jonghyun’s lips, the fingers on Taemin’s skin leaving him, abandoning him.

“Taemin-ah, don’t.”

‘ _Taemin-ah, don’t._ ’ That was all he ever heard, every time he brought the topic up. ‘ _Taemin-ah, don’t_.’ Words that made him hate his name. ‘ _Taemin-ah, don’t_.’ Destroying the little pile of hope he had carefully built up, like a kid trampling someone else’s sandcastle at the beach.

Saying nothing, Taemin looked back at the screen, the panic in the hostages’ eyes, as they tried to find a way out of the crazy mansion on all fours, leaving him completely unaffected. He pulled away, in a bad mood, when Jonghyun tried to rest a hand on his thigh and brought some distance between them, overthinking his relationship with Jonghyun for what felt like the thousandth time.

Was Jonghyun really worth all the heartache he made Taemin suffer through? Was _any_ person worth it? What would he get out of running after someone who so clearly had no interest in him – good sex and humorous conversations? Was that all? Couldn’t he find that somewhere else as well? What spell did he have to break to finally be able to free himself from his feelings?

He remembered how they had fought together to kill Duriel, the end boss of Act II in Diablo II; how many tries it had taken them to finally tear the monster into pieces. Did Taemin need a thawing potion to stand a chance against Jonghyun? Was there another level-up needed? Stronger armor and deadlier weapons? Was that what Jonghyun had tried to warn him about – that falling for him wouldn’t be wise, that he didn’t want Taemin to make the same mistakes he had? Had Jonghyun been right all along and Taemin had been too proud and already too in love to admit it?

Their relationship was as fragile as a vase and with every argument, with every little conflict Taemin saw new tiny cracks appear on its surface.

“Taemin-ah,” the voice of the devil lured him back in with the sweetest voice. “Are you mad at me?”

Taemin shook his head and ignored Jonghyun’s attempts at acting cute, having heard enough of ‘ _Taemin-ah’_ for the day. He wouldn’t be able to stay mad at Jonghyun for long, but at least for the next half-hour – at least until that awful movie ended – he wanted to pretend that he still possessed something like a backbone and wasn’t a helpless puppy, entirely dependent on his owner, like everyone around him made him out to be.

* * *

Taemin’s lungs were burning. Sweat ran down his face and back, and his heart vigorously pumped blood through his body. Holding the basketball in one hand, he dribbled around Minho and made himself small, agilely finding his way to the hoop like a mouse dodging traps on its way to the cheese. His sneakers squeaked as he ran over the wood floor of the gymnasium, feet lifting from the ground as he jumped and threw the ball: a perfect shot, as it didn’t even touch the ring and fell right through the net.

“Good one,” Minho called out and jogged over to grab the ball, his own black t-shirt sticking to his back. Every single one of the six hoops in the gymnasium was occupied that day, the hall filled with the squeaking of shoes and people yelling commands at each other, the air smelling of wood, rubber, and sweating feet. Taemin hadn’t gone out to play sports with Minho in a while, but there were only so many computer games he could play without completely losing his mind, and he hoped that exercising might help him to unwind and blow off some steam.

“So, how was your date?” he asked as they neared almost an hour of playing.

Minho began to bump the ball leisurely against the floor, changing hands every time it bounced back up again. Taemin was curious to know whether there was a chance of them going back to normal again without Minho trying to flirt with him all the time. If his flat-mate had found someone else to fool around with, Minho had no need for him anymore.

“Date?”

Taemin came closer and tried to block Minho. “Your hookup?”

“Ah – Jonghyun told you?” Minho smirked, not even attempting to start an attack, ball steadily bouncing up and down.

“Maybe.”

Minho’s grin widened. “Jealous?”

Snorting, Taemin used the right timing to push the ball out of the other’s hands and watched as it rolled off to the side. 

“It was just sex. It could have been you instead.”

“Oh, shut up!” Taemin replied as he ran after the ball and picked it up. Minho’s advances were bothersome, but he wasn’t as fazed by them anymore as he had been in the beginning. They either had lost their power or Taemin’s mind had been too corrupted over the past few months to truly care about them. Before coming to Seoul he would have been shocked by such directness, but countryside prudery was out of place in a place filled with people so open for everything and everyone.

“You aren’t getting anywhere with Jonghyun, are you? Maybe you should be the one giving up.”

The truth was hard to swallow, but Minho had a point. Taemin had no idea where things with Jonghyun were headed. Would he forever be caught up in the _friendzone_ – or, at least, until another guy came around and snatched Jonghyun away from him?

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Starting his offense, Taemin jogged toward the hoop, air getting caught in his lungs as he collided with Minho, who had suddenly risen up against him like the iceberg in front of the Titanic. The ball flew out of his hands and bounced off the floor, rolling over to another group of players. Being kind enough, they picked up the ball and threw it back, Minho catching it with both hands and a ‘thank you’.

“Tell me: that time you were in my room and we watched that horror movie, would you have slept with me?”

Taemin frowned and stood still as Minho came closer. It felt like Minho asked him the same question every other week. “Dude, are you still hung up on that? It’s been months.”

“Just tell me.”

“Why?” Taemin brushed sweaty strands of hair out of his face before untying it and combing through it with his hands. His hair had gotten so long that he needed to use a hair tie while exercising these days. It was a small ponytail on the back of his head, but if he didn’t put it up, Taemin would spend the majority of their basketball game eating his own hair.

“Curiosity.”

Taemin paused, eyed Minho, and then put the hair tie back in, pulling at the strands to make it tighter. He remembered how desperate he had been and how reasonable his past-self had considered the idea of sleeping with Minho to forget all about Jonghyun. Sometimes he wished he could go back in time by using a time-turner or a DeLorean and tell his younger self to keep his dick in his pants and his legs closed and to stay away from everyone in his apartment unit.

“Yeah, I would have,” he answered honestly.

“So why didn’t you try anything?” Minho asked and looked back at the hoop. “Last attack for today?”

Taemin shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. I guess I didn’t know how to go about it.”

Minho was so swift with the ball this time that Taemin had no chance of defending the hoop, the attack ending as quickly as it started, the ball going right through when Minho threw it. As soon as the ball touched the ground, Minho turned back to him.

“It’s surprising that you’ve gotten laid in the past, Taemin. Did the girls at your school fling themselves at you – or how did you manage?”

Biting his lip, Taemin ignored Minho’s question at first to retrieve the ball, and then answered him with a simple, “No comment” as he threw the basketball back into the box where the balls were kept in storage.

“Girls like the looks of guys like you, no? The pretty boys?” Minho teased and followed Taemin to the locker room.

“As if you aren’t one of them,” Taemin pointed out and stepped into his shower slippers when they arrived in front of their lockers.

“Aww – was that a compliment?” Minho winked at Taemin and gave him a little nudge with his shoulder while Taemin grabbed his towels and toiletries. “Thank you. You’re not too shabby yourself.”

They headed straight to the neighboring shower room, a wall of mist hitting Taemin as he walked through the doorway. A few of the shower cabins were already occupied, the sound of water hitting the tiles echoing through the room. Considering it useless to fill their conversation with more words, Taemin went to an empty shower cabin and locked the door behind himself, hearing Minho enter the one right next to him. Generally, Taemin preferred to play basketball and soccer outdoors, but the hot shower after a heated match indoors was the one thing he always looked forward to. Stripping out of his clothes, he grabbed his 2-in-1 body wash and hit the shower, the building still so new that the showers were in pristine shape and Taemin didn’t have to fear catching a foot fungus. His muscles relaxed immediately as warm water pattered on his shoulders and he hung his head low, enjoying the moment of silence.

However, the silence didn’t last and Taemin soon heard Minho’s voice calling for his attention.

“Taemin-ah.”

“Yeah?” he answered and looked up, brushing hair out of his face.

“Do you have a type?”

Furrowing his brows, Taemin grabbed his body wash and hit the bottom to squeeze some of the neon-colored substance into his hand. “A type?”

“Yeah – what gets you off?”

Taemin didn’t think the shower room of the university’s gymnasium was the right place to have a conversation like this, especially knowing that they weren’t the only people present, but considering that no one could see their faces or knew who they were, he didn’t really mind. He instantly recalled Jonghyun’s words about not having a type and tried to think whether he had one himself, but he couldn’t make up his mind.

“I don’t know.”

He could hear Minho snort on the other side of the shower wall. “I don’t believe you. What did the girls you’ve dated in the past look like?”

“Cute – I guess.”

“ _Cute_? Lame – I’m talking about bodies here, Taemin-ah. Don’t want to worm everything out of you. Are you a tits or ass kind of guy?”

Heat spread on Taemin’s cheeks and he was sure if Jonghyun were here with them he would have started to laugh – and who would Taemin be to blame him for it? 

“Breasts,” he answered shortly, rubbing the shower gel into his hair and spreading it quickly over his body.

“Well – that’s a start, at least. I’m more a booty kind of guy but would never pass on a nice pair of tits. Small, big?”

Taemin wondered whether the other guys in the shower room were listening to their conversation with interest or secretly rolling their eyes at them.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I want to learn how you tick,” Minho answered him. A nearby door opened and fell shut again, a pair of slippers shuffling away over the floor.

“By finding out if I like big or small boobs?” Taemin asked as he leaned his head back and washed the foam out of his hair, trying not to get any of it in his eyes.

“I have to start somewhere, right?”

With a sigh, Taemin went back to showering and rinsed out his mouth. He combed through his hair with his fingers one last time before he turned the shower off and angled for a towel.

“Yah, Taemin-ah.”

With slight irritation in his voice, Taemin answered, “Yeah?” and wiped himself dry, wrapping the towel around his hips when he was done.

“Do you have a type when it comes to men?”

Taemin had expected him to go there at some point, so he wasn’t really surprised. The sound of water stopped in the cabin next to him and Taemin could hear Minho stepping out of the shower soon after.

“No, not really,” he answered mechanically, voice a little lower, and gathered up his things.

His attraction toward Jonghyun wasn’t comparable with the attraction he had experienced with girls in the past. There had always been guys he had considered extremely attractive; actors and musicians mainly, but it had never reached a level where he had fantasized about having sex with them. Even with Jonghyun – the reason he had wanted to continue sleeping with him wasn’t because Jonghyun was a guy who was extremely sexy and handsome, but because Jonghyun was _Jonghyun_. His personality and Taemin’s curiosity had made Jonghyun so attractive to him that Taemin had wanted to sleep with him again.

“So I still stand a chance.”

Taemin could hear the grin in Minho’s voice and rolled his eyes, wondering if facing Minho straight on might help to turn their friendship back to normal. They exited their cabins at the same time, walking out next to each other with their towels wrapped around their hips and their arms filled with their sportswear.

“Can I be honest with you?” Taemin asked as they reached the locker room.

“Of course.” Minho came to a halt in front of their lockers and placed his clothes on the bench separating the aisles of differently colored lockers from each other.

“You were way more fun to hang out with when you didn’t try to get into my pants all the time,” Taemin said as he grabbed his bag and street clothes.

“Does it bother you that much?”

Without facing away out of courtesy, Minho took off his towel and casually reached for his underwear, Taemin blinking in shock before he turned toward his locker to shut it. It was the first time they had exited the shower room at the same time, Minho usually already dressed and waiting for him in the entrance hall after the two of them played a round of basketball. So the possibility of them standing next to each other naked only occurred to Taemin the very second it happened.

“Yes, it makes me uncomfortable,” he commented, not sure if it was supposed to be an answer to Minho’s question or a description of the way he felt right now. Taemin had grown up without feeling a sense of shame at being naked around other guys, his father having taken him to a public bathhouse every weekend when he was still a kid. But this was different. This was Minho.

“Taemin-ah, most of the time I’m just being playful. But if it bothers you that much, I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks, I would appreciate that,” he said and got dressed silently, trying to pretend that Minho didn’t look at his butt as he pulled his boxers up.

“Hey, we already hang out less than we used to because you are basically glued to Jonghyun’s hip these days – so I don’t want to gamble all my chances on you coming with me to the gym.”

Did it really look like they were glued together at the hip? To Taemin, Jonghyun and he didn’t spend nearly enough time together – but then again, what would he even consider being _enough_? Sometimes 24 hours didn’t seem like enough.

Taemin pulled his sweatshirt over his head and began to pack his things together, not even trying to fold his worn clothes and wet towels, tossing everything inside his bag. “I don’t really feel like going to the gym that much or playing a sport in the middle of winter,” he said as he reached for his jacket and put it on.

“We can also do something else. I might be awful at playing the games you and Jonghyun are so into, but I’m quite good at FIFA.”

Did Minho just make him a peace offering? It would be nice to hang around with Minho again without him wanting to dictate whom Taemin was supposed to sleep with or trying to flirt with Taemin all the time. After all, Minho had been the one who had helped him the most right in the beginning and sometimes he missed the lightness of their conversations. He knew Minho was a nice guy, who most likely had good intentions in mind, but sometimes he was a little overbearing, his presence and character too much to handle.

“I know,” Taemin smiled at him and shouldered his bag, the two of them leaving the locker room together.

* * *

The pregame to Jinki’s planned night out took place at their dorm a few days later, the five flat-mates plus three students from Minho’s study program and two guys from the States, whom Kibum had met during a language exchange party, squeezed around the table in their shared kitchen, the space way too small to allow everyone to sit comfortably. Taemin rolled back and forth on his swivel chair, which he had grabbed from his room due to a lack of seating options, a big glass with a mixture of Sprite and gin sitting in front of him on the table.

He was seated between Jonghyun and one of Minho’s friends, an average guy of average height and average looks, who had a very loud laugh but was very good at mixing drinks. One of the Americans had suggested playing a drinking game, a deck of 52 cards lying face down in the middle of the table, each number having a different task assigned to it, and the taller of the two, named Daniel, had written the rules in crappy handwriting on the information board hanging on their wall. Taemin scarcely understood half of the English that made up the rules, which resulted in him nudging Minho’s friend Hyuwan in the side after every new rule for translation assistance.

The rules of the game were quite simple: each player took a card from the deck and carried out whatever the number on the card told them to. Most tasks naturally revolved around drinking, but there were also cards to make the player who drew them embarrass themselves in front of everyone, be it through answering awkward questions from someone else at the table or dancing in front of everyone. They were in their second round by now, Taemin slowly getting the hang of it while American pop music flooded their apartment, Jonghyun next to him, humming along to every song, a toxic-looking neon blue drink in his hand.

It was Kibum’s turn next, the other comfortably resting in Jinki’s lap, because he had been too lazy to grab a chair from his room, and a mischievous grin appeared on his lips when he took a look at the card he had picked up.

“Never have I ever,” he said in English first before he went on to repeat the saying in Korean, raising the card in his hand for everyone to see, a black 4 visible on the other side. A round of loud sighs went through the round before everyone reluctantly lifted three fingers into the air, knowing the first one who had done Kibum’s ‘three things’ would have to take a shot. Kibum seemed to ponder for a second, lips pursed and eyes directed at the ceiling before he straightened up and placed the card aside.

“Okay – I will go soft on you. Never have I ever given or received a lap dance,” Kibum started off, looking around curiously as everyone except for Taemin put one finger down, and Taemin was flustered as all eyes were drawn to him immediately. Maybe he was hallucinating, but it appeared like some of the guys at the table were pitying him. 

“We can change that,” Jonghyun whispered from the side, heat rushing to Taemin’s cheeks when the other patted his knee.

“ _Mmh_ – let me see. Never have I ever had a one-night-stand.”

“What about sex that started off as a one-night-stand but developed into something more later on?” Jinki inquired as soon as Kibum was done speaking, one of his hands raised in the air with two fingers up and the other placed around Kibum’s waist.

“No, that doesn’t count. Just meeting, fucking, and _sayōnara_ ,” Kibum elaborated swiftly, which caused Jinki to nod with a hum. His two fingers stayed up while Jonghyun, Minho, Kibum, and one of the Americans each dropped one finger, Taemin being the only one with all three fingers still up. Was that a sign of how vanilla he actually was? Or was that normal for his age? He was younger than everyone else at the table, after all.

“Okay, maybe the last one for this round – Never have I ever said ‘I love you’ just to get laid.”

Kibum looked expectantly around the table while Taemin hesitated for a second before he put one finger down, closely followed by Minho and one of the American guys, who had both lost the game. They raised their glasses to each other and drank one third of their drinks in one go, Minho shaking his head with a frown when he was done. A simple ‘ _I love you’_ worked magic on girls; Taemin had learned that way too early, and a part of him felt bad for having used these words so lightheartedly in the past to get what he wanted.

The game continued, a blatant mix of drinking and humiliation, Taemin starting to feel the alcohol after he had to take shots several times in a row, and his head came to rest on Jonghyun’s shoulder. The other stroked his hair and asked him to slow down before he got too drunk, but he nodded weakly in response and closed his eyes, trying to blend out the chattering around him and breathing in the familiarity of Jonghyun’s cologne, a scent he had become so accustomed to that he started to feel lonely whenever it wasn’t around.

A loud round of howling made him open his eyes again and he looked around for the source of the sudden rise in volume, his eyes falling on Minho, who held up a card with the number 9 – _dancing_.

“I’d rather not dance,” he tried to get himself out of the situation, waving around his hands reluctantly as Daniel bumped against his shoulder in a supportive fashion.

“Oh come on, Choi. We all know your long-ass legs have more to offer than kicking balls around,” Jonghyun tossed in while raising his glass, taking a sip while grinning mischievously around the rim, cheeks tinted in a soft pink. He looked adorable – at least, to Taemin he did.

“I need more alcohol before I’m able to embarrass myself like that,” Minho muttered, turning around the black snapback sitting on his head, revealing more of his face.

“Min, don’t be such a pussy, and get it over with,” Kibum barged in as well, a roll of his eyes telling Taemin immediately that he was fed up with the other’s antics.

Minho paused for a moment, hesitating, but then he stood up with a long sigh, making everyone cheer loudly. “But I don’t want to dance alone,” he complained, looking around in search of a partner. Taemin gulped nervously when the other’s eyes came to a halt on him, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Tae, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” he asked formally and bowed, a big frown creeping onto Taemin’s forehead.

“It’s not my task,” he whined loudly. “Why me?” He didn’t want to leave his safe space next to Jonghyun, who patted his knee encouragingly.

“Come on, Taemin-ah. Usually you are not complaining about him wanting to dance with you,” Jonghyun said and squeezed his knee for emphasis.

A sullen huff left Taemin’s mouth, a grumbled “ _Traitor_ ” falling from his lips as he got up to squeeze himself between the chairs and the wall, his mind swimming in a state of dizziness, hands grabbing for every support they could find until he finally reached Minho, who smiled brightly at him.

“You owe me,” Taemin murmured, pressing his forefinger against the other’s chest, Minho’s smile widening.

“You are a good sport, Tae. Thanks.”

The older man winked at him and then looked over at Kibum, who was searching for a song on his phone; always acting like a DJ whenever there was a party. Kibum seemed comfortable sitting in Jinki’s lap, and if Taemin didn’t know better, he would most likely have thought they were a couple. He wondered whether Jonghyun was bothered by the sight, but it didn’t look like it, a pensive smile stapled to his flat-mate’s face. 

“Come on, just pick something so we can get it over with,” Minho complained when Kibum still hadn’t decided on a song, even after browsing through his music folder for what seemed like an eternity.

“Got it, _got it_ , you will love this one.” The wide mischievous grin on Kibum’s lips told Taemin that this statement was most likely a lie, and his assumption was confirmed when he a familiar-sounding [synthesizer melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PGNiXGX2nLU&ab_channel=DeadOrAliveVEVO) began. He had heard the song quite often but had no idea who sang it.

“Oh Ki, man. That’s the gayest shit ever,” Daniel exclaimed with a chortle, raising his beer in approval.

“This song sucks,” Taemin commented deprecatingly, already on his way back to his chair, not up for being ridiculed in front of some foreigners. It was okay to act like a fool in front of his flat-mates from time to time, but in front of some seniors and exchange students? _No_.

However, he didn’t get far, Minho's hand finding its way around his wrist, holding him back, two big round eyes looking pleadingly at Taemin when he whirled his head around. Jonghyun’s eyes were roundish but still had a slight wing to them at the outer corner, one upper lid more curved than the other – a cute little flaw Taemin had noticed when he had been sucked off in his swivel chair one afternoon – but Minho’s eyes were something else entirely. Almost round like marbles, the deep brown of the iris making them appear as if they belonged to a deer that had been lost in the woods.

“It’s not that bad,” Minho tried to convince him with a smile, left foot tapping along to the music, hips moving left and right in a cutesy fashion. Not having the heart to say no, Taemin turned around completely, trying to ignore their audience as he started copying Minho’s movements, quickly getting a hang of the 80’s hit. He was sure his parents hadn’t even been dating when the song had first come out.

“That’s not gay enough!”

It was Jonghyun’s voice echoing through the room, accompanied by a wave of laughter. He was cupping his hands in front of his mouth, repeating that sentence over and over in different pitches.

“Nothing is ever gay enough for you,” Kibum tossed in, and Jonghyun pointed at him with a cheeky grin in return.

“You got that right,” he replied cutely, starting to hoot when Minho grabbed Taemin by the hips and pulled him closer until their bodies were touching. It bothered Taemin somehow that Jonghyun didn’t seem to mind this kind of intimacy at all, but rather approved of it by cheering them on. There was a stone in his stomach weighing him down, not even the alcohol in his system able to make the feeling of not being good enough for Jonghyun disappear.

There was literally a dry humping session taking place in the kitchen of their apartment, mostly encouraged by Taemin, after the realization hit him that he could go down on Minho right in front of Jonghyun and the other wouldn’t even bat an eye. It was more likely for him to hand them condoms and lube as a reminder to stay safe than show even the tiniest hint of jealousy. It was disheartening and hurtful to be treated like a second-class citizen. Taemin stopped grinding up against Minho when he felt the other getting hard, a frustrating experience when said person wasn’t the one he wanted to turn on. Dropping a curtsy, he walked back to his place and sulkily drank from his glass, ignoring Jonghyun’s hand, which found its usual spot on his thigh and stroked it in an encouraging manner.

“That was hot,” Jonghyun stated bluntly, and Taemin took another sip instead of replying anything. More than once, the thought crossed his mind that he should give up like Minho had suggested and move on, that Jonghyun would never be into him enough to start a relationship with him, that he was only good enough to serve as a fuck buddy when no one else was there to play around with. But then Jonghyun smiled again, that cute toothy smile, which made Taemin feel all dizzy and let him forget that he was nothing more than a breathing sex toy that operated on food instead of batteries.

The club they went to was within walking distance, the weather outside calling for jackets as they strolled in serpentine lines along the sidewalk, Kibum and his exchange students leading the way while Taemin and one of Minho’s friends formed the end of their little group. It was the not-very-talkative friend he had to walk next to, Taemin not knowing much about him except for his name – Seungho. He would have preferred to walk next to Minho, Jinki or Jonghyun, but they had built a wall of four people, their formation only splitting up when someone wanted to pass them.

It sucked that his flat-mates seemed to be having fun while he was stuck with the one silent person in the group – Taemin, being his introvert self, not knowing how to start any kind of conversation on his own. So they walked next to each other in silence and Taemin grabbed the first chance to leave his walking buddy when they had reached the club.

Taemin hadn’t been to a _real_ club before, the kids in his hometown usually hanging out outside or meeting up at a facility of the church, the sight of drunken bodies dancing close to each other to electronic music one he only knew from movies. He tried to stick to the rest of the group while taking it all in: the music, the lights, and the people. Their first destination was the bar, where Jinki paid for a round of beer amid loud applause and handed a bottle to Taemin with a wink. He took it with a smile and drank a first sip right away, enjoying the bitter taste the drink left on his tongue.

“Hey, I wanted to buy you a drink.” Minho nudged him from the side, holding a bottle of beer in his hand.

“The night is still young, we’ve just arrived,” Taemin replied loudly, wanting to make sure that Minho could hear him over the bassy music.

Minho leaned over then to ask, “Are you up for a second round of dancing?” to which Taemin grimaced unenthusiastically. “Come on. People go to clubs to dance,” the older encouraged him.

Taking a sip from his beer, Taemin eyed Minho and then looked for Jonghyun, who seemed busy explaining something to Jinki with big gestures. He had the choice to mope and wait for Jonghyun to come around or be an adult and dance the pain away. When he saw Jonghyun laugh at a joke their flat-mate made, the decision was an easy one. They were in a club, and what else was there to do apart from dancing and drinking alcohol?

He placed a hand on Minho’s shoulder and followed him through the crowd of people, bumping into some and apologizing immediately, the dance floor packed to the brim. Taemin was glad that the other kept his hands to himself, as they were in a regular club with a lot of people around them, and moved his body along to the rhythm instead of grinding up against Taemin’s. He grinned when Minho began to jump with raised arms as an upbeat song started and mimicked the moves, excitedly banging his head, thumb pressed down on the opening of his beer bottle so as to not spill anything.

“This is fun,” he called out as his heart rate increased and heat rose to his cheeks, Minho smiling at him as they and a few others jumped together, the dance floor quaking underneath their feet. It was liberating to dance without a concept, letting the music speak for itself, the bass running through his body. Taemin thought that he probably looked like a jumping jack right now, but he didn’t really care. The alcohol helped him to relax and he shook his head to beats he had never heard before and would probably not listen to at home.

At the height of his euphoria, an arm suddenly sneaked itself around his waist, and when he turned to see who it was, Jonghyun stood in front of him: cheeks flushed, hair tousled, and his eyes glassy; a drunken smile on his lips. Taemin’s initial reaction was to wiggle himself out of the other’s one-armed embrace, since his pride and heart had been hurt by the other’s constant indifference toward his interactions with others, no matter how intimate they were. But the invisible string that connected them pulled him deeper into Jonghyun’s spider web, all his frustration and anger vanishing as he drowned in the other’s eyes.

“You never dance with me.” There was this cute little pout back on Jonghyun’s lips, which made Taemin want to kiss it away.

“Because you never ask,” he replied, leaning closer so he didn’t need to scream; Jonghyun’s cologne wafting over, intoxicating him.

Jonghyun’s other arm found his way around Taemin and he was drawn closer until the other could whisper into his ear, “Would you dance with me, then?” Taemin smelled the beer on Jonghyun’s breath, but the soft, sultry sound of his voice made him tremble, fingertips tightening their hold on his beer bottle.

“Trying to steal my dancing partner from me?”

 _Right_ , he hadn’t been alone on the dance floor. Taemin saw Minho coming up to them out of the corner of his eye, looking incredibly tall next to Jonghyun and himself.

“Kibum’s looking for you,” Jonghyun said loudly, bringing a frown to Minho’s face.

“What does he want?”

Jonghyun shrugged and added, “Don’t know.”

Minho seemed to waver between staying with them and leaving the dance floor, but realizing that he would probably be a fifth wheel from now on, he beat retreat, leaving the two of them alone.

“I was lying,” Jonghyun whispered into Taemin’s ear as soon as the other was gone and giggled softly, his lips brushing along the shell of the lobe as he pulled back and placed his forefinger in front of his mouth. “But _shhh_ ,” he said playfully, grinning like a small boy.

When Taemin reciprocated his smile, Jonghyun slung his arms around the younger’s neck and pressed their bodies closer together. He felt the muscles in Jonghyun’s chest and his dick rubbing against his, the latter distracting Taemin from the main purpose of visiting a dance floor. It surprised him how Jonghyun didn’t seem to care about all the people around them – unlike Minho – and acted like they were in the secure vicinity of their dormitory, where heteronormativity and homophobia didn’t exist; where his flat-mates had created a perfect open-minded bubble outside of the real world.

“This is not _Dirty Dancing_ ,” he pointed out after a while, when Jonghyun turned around to move his butt against Taemin’s crotch, the sensation too intense to leave the younger unaffected. It bothered him how turned on he was by Jonghyun, who had more or less ignored him for the majority of the evening, and he took a sip from his beer, the bottle almost empty now. 

“But I like the feeling of your dick pressing against my ass,” Jonghyun replied with a smug grin as he faced him again and combed through Taemin’s hair with his fingers.

“You are drunk,” Taemin noted and placed his hands low on Jonghyun’s hips, fingers diving beneath the other’s black shirt to touch his skin. It was warm and slightly damp with sweat from dancing.

The grin on Jonghyun’s lips widened and he leaned in before he whispered, “No, just tipsy and horny – a good combination.” His lips were on Taemin’s before the younger one had a chance to reply, his mouth opening instantly when Jonghyun’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip sloppily. Jonghyun smiled into the kiss, one of the other’s hands gliding down Taemin’s back to cup his butt through the jeans, and a small growl left his lips in response. In the back of his mind, he still thought about all the people around them, wondered what they were thinking right now.

“We should have stayed home,” Taemin said as he ended their kiss, Jonghyun laughing into his neck, the volume of the music seemingly growing louder with every song. Jonghyun went on to nip at his skin, and Taemin craned his neck with a soft sigh, digging his fingertips into Jonghyun’s hips. He noticed a few people looking at them now, their expressions repulsed, but Jonghyun didn’t seem to mind, the nibbling turning into more of a soft biting, sending blood rushing right down to Taemin’s crotch.

“Stop teasing,” Taemin breathed through clenched teeth, pulling Jonghyun even closer to hide his growing erection and let Jonghyun know what effect he was having on the younger.

“Why? Want to get down to it right here?” Jonghyun giggled, a tipsy one that sounded cute and high-pitched.

“I wouldn’t mind the audience,” Taemin confessed, and another breathy giggle made him smile.

“Sure you wouldn’t, you pervert.” Jonghyun brought some distance between them and grabbed Taemin’s hand, his palm sweaty but insistent. “Follow me,” he said as he pulled Taemin after him.

Less than a minute later Taemin found himself in a toilet stall of the restroom, his jeans hastily pushed down and Jonghyun crouching in front of him, mouth filled with dick. He was glad that the restroom was moderately clean and didn’t smell that strongly of urine or vomit as he leaned against the white tiles at his back, no trace of vulgar doodles or scratched off stickers on any of the walls around them.

Burying his hands in Jonghyun’s hair, he watched in satisfaction how far the other took him in and how much he seemed to enjoy sucking him off. It was one of Taemin’s favorite sights, and more than once he had taken the opportunity to capture these intimate moments with his phone by recording short video clips or taking snapshots that he could look at when Jonghyun wasn’t around. Jonghyun had never minded this form of memory capturing, but rather had encouraged it by giving Taemin even a better show, taking him in further or staring right into the camera lens, making Taemin’s legs feel shaky as he looked at him through the display.

“You look hot,” he uttered, panting, the bass from the music next door almost drowning out his voice. He felt the vibration of it through the wall, his eyes focusing on Jonghyun, who looked up at him with a hinted smirk. Even while drunk and with a cock in his mouth, he looked beautiful, Taemin observed, indulging in the sweet pressure around his dick. Was this what Jonghyun’s freshman year had looked like? Him crouching down in bathroom stalls and sucking cock?

“So I was told,” Jonghyun replied brazenly, letting Taemin’s cock slip out of his mouth. He got back up then, fisting Taemin’s hair and pulling him in for a kiss, and Taemin’s heart fluttered in his chest. The alcohol made Jonghyun a little rougher and impetuous, kisses garnished with playful bites, his breath hot as his tongue slid along Taemin’s.

He was about to press himself further against Jonghyun’s body when the other went rigid and pulled away to look at him, no word leaving his mouth. There was a pause in Jonghyun’s actions and Taemin’s erection twitched between their stomachs, his breathing labored, as his hands ached to move over to open Jonghyun’s pants. A bathroom wasn’t a good place to fuck but good enough for a quick blowjob or handjob to release some tension.

“Taemin-ah,” he said in a whisper. “Tell me, what am I going to do with you, Lee Taemin?” A hand combed through his hair. “ _Mmh_? What am I going to do with you?”

With that the charged mood evaporated into thin air, Taemin blinking helplessly at the other. Jonghyun sounded thoughtful and a sigh left his lips as he pressed his forehead against Taemin’s, who wasn’t sure if this question referred to their current situation or was a general thought the other had wanted to speak out loud. Jonghyun’s fingertips pressed against his temples, the sudden shift in atmosphere making him feel ashamed for being as aroused and hard as he was.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, unsure why they weren’t kissing or touching anymore.

“I don’t know,” came the soft reply, and when Taemin glanced at Jonghyun, his eyes were closed. “Maybe it’s the alcohol,” he added in a monotone voice and pointed at the stall’s door. “We should go back.”

Jonghyun turned around to leave and Taemin grabbed his shoulder with a frown, not sure what had happened. A few moments ago Jonghyun had been crouched in front of him, giving him a blowjob, and now he wanted to leave with Taemin’s jeans pooled around his ankles, his dick still hard and throbbing.

“Are you okay? Should we go home?” he asked worriedly and tucked himself back in, having difficulty positioning his erection in a way that wouldn’t make him too uncomfortable in his jeans.

“Yeah – I mean, _I_ should go home. I’m not feeling well. You can stay here, of course, and enjoy your night out,” Jonghyun said almost absentmindedly, giving Taemin a soft tap on the shoulder before opening the stall door.

“No, I’ll come with you. I don’t want you to walk home alone if you are not feeling well.”

Taemin had no idea what was going on, what had caused the mood change, so he left the restroom with Jonghyun, neither of them telling the others goodbye before leaving the club. He was tense as he walked next to the older one, hands in his pockets, the streets around them quiet at one in the morning. Taemin wanted to say something but didn’t know what, Jonghyun not looking like he was in the mood for small talk or a discussion about the latest episode of _Yuri on Ice_. The chilly night wind crept into his clothes and he pulled up his shoulders, his bottom lip quivering as they passed the entrance to their campus. The night had started out promising with the other’s mouth between his legs, but all that horniness had vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but confusion behind.

“Have I done something wrong?”

It was a tendency Taemin had fought with all his life. Even though he knew that he hadn’t done anything, he always blamed himself first. Maybe telling Jonghyun that he looked hot had been an inappropriate thing to say, or maybe he had kissed the other in a way he hadn’t liked.

“No, of course not, Taemin-ah.”

The tone of Jonghyun’s voice wasn’t reassuring enough for Taemin to put his doubts aside, and a gush of warm air embraced them as they entered the dormitory. The lights along the corridor lit up one by one as they walked through it, Jonghyun going up the stairs rather quickly for someone who claimed to not be feeling well, sometimes taking two steps at a time. Taemin had a hard time keeping up, holding onto the handrail as he followed him upstairs.

“I’m going to take a shower. Good night,” was the one thing Jonghyun said after they entered their apartment and kicked off their shoes at the door, the older one walking straight to his room without sparing Taemin another glance.

Taemin couldn’t wrap his head around the situation, the alcohol making it harder for him to think. He shuffled through the kitchen and watched as Jonghyun disappeared into his room, the door falling shut behind him. After struggling to get out of his clothes, Taemin fell onto his own bed and stared up at the dark ceiling, both hands resting on his tummy.

Mood swings were something Taemin knew Jonghyun went through on a regular basis, but he usually wasn’t the one who caused them. He turned onto his side when he heard the shower start running, not sure what he was supposed to do. Letting the night end like this wasn’t an option; he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if he didn’t figure out what was wrong.

Plucking at his bedsheets, he brooded over the past hour, trying to sort out why their visit to the club had been such a short one and how they had gone from kissing each other to staying in separate rooms. Eventually he got up and left his bed, knowing that he wouldn’t find the answer in the creases of his sheets, and headed to the showers. He didn’t hesitate to pull the shower door open, surprise spreading over his features when he saw Jonghyun’s forehead resting against the wall, shoulders slumped, steaming hot water running down his body. He didn’t even look up when Taemin decided to take off his boxers and join him, closing the door behind himself.

“Hey,” Taemin announced his presence warily, not sure what else to say. He’d expected some form of reaction but there was none; Jonghyun still faced the wall, hair plastered against his face, the slouched shoulders making him look even smaller than he was. Only when Taemin stepped closer to wrap his arms around the other’s body from behind did Jonghyun look up, slowly turning in his embrace.

“Why are you here?” he asked in a tired-sounding voice; his eyes red, wet hair hanging down to his nose.

“I wanted to know why you started acting so odd all of a sudden.”

“I already told you that I didn’t feel well,” Jonghyun repeated his explanation from earlier with a sigh, Taemin staying unconvinced. He brushed the hair out of Jonghyun’s face before placing his hand on his cheek, thumb running over the heated flesh.

“I don’t know where this is going anymore, Taemin.”

Jonghyun’s hand covered his, pulling it away from his cheek but not letting go of it.

“Where what is going?” he asked as he looked at their intertwined hands, at Jonghyun’s thumb digging into his skin.

There was a small, distraught laugh before Jonghyun shook his head, answering Taemin’s question with a, “Nevermind.”

“You are not making any sense.”

Another halfhearted laugh, and the creases on Taemin’s forehead deepened.

“Have I ever made sense to you before?” Jonghyun looked at him now, questioning, eyes saying so much in a language Taemin didn’t understand. The shower spray was way too hot for comfort and Taemin saw red splotches forming on his own skin as well as Jonghyun’s, who didn’t seem to mind the heat at all.

“I don’t understand.”

“Me neither,” Jonghyun replied earnestly, a somber smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The last time Taemin had seen the other in a state similar to his present one was when Kibum had started dating someone, so his mind logically associated Jonghyun’s current distress with their other flat-mate. “Does it have anything to do with Kibum?”

“Kibum?” Jonghyun’s brows wrinkled. “Why Kibum?”

Taemin shrugged, still not used to having serious conversations. He usually tried to avoid them by changing the topic, but he felt like it was necessary to keep talking about it, to get to the bottom of Jonghyun’s attitude.

“Because it’s always about Kibum in the end, isn’t it?” he exhaled as he thought about the past months, their flat-mate always playing an important role in his memories even though he had rarely been physically present.

“Is that so?”

Taemin nodded. “Yeah. After all, you were – or maybe still are – in love with him.”

He hated to admit that, having a hard time even saying the words _Kibum_ and _in love_ out loud, and his unoccupied hand curled into a fist. Wondering about how things would have turned out if Kibum didn’t exist was something Taemin had spent way too much time on. It wasn’t fair towards Kibum, but when was life ever fair? Life hadn’t been fair to Taemin either when it had decided to let him fall in love with someone who was obsessed with the idea of being with someone that wasn’t him.

“Kibum seems to be someone you often think about.”

This time it was Taemin who snorted scornfully and took a step back.

“I wonder why that is,” he said, more to himself, his tone cynical. He looked at Jonghyun’s chest, at the water dribbling along his pecs and down his abs, his eyes magically drawn to the jewelry in Jonghyun’s left nipple. It was fascinating to him, how he could be so mesmerized by a simple piercing; how his mouth instantly started watering at the thought of placing his lips around it.

“You still like me, don’t you?”

The question startled Taemin and his eyes widened as he tried to think of a response.

“Would I be here right now if I wasn’t?” he returned eventually, his eyes fixed on the small beauty mark between Jonghyun’s collarbones.

“Are we answering questions with other questions again?”

“ _Are_ we?” Taemin inclined his head, eyebrows raised, the expression causing the older one to give a laugh before he fell silent again.

“And you still want to be in a relationship?” Jonghyun paused before he added, “With me?”

“ _Yes_.”

There was no need to beautify his answer, to add something cheesy to it. In Taemin’s world, less was often more, so he stuck to this motto when he responded to Jonghyun’s question, looking at him, his heart racing in his chest.

“I’m not sure if you know what being in a relationship with me would actually mean, Taemin-ah.”

Jonghyun’s grip on his hand loosened as it wandered up to his wrist, encircling it.

“‘Mean’? Isn’t the meaning of a relationship always the same, no matter the partner you choose to be with?”

“And what would that be?”

Halting for a moment, Taemin tried piecing together a composition of words that would prove his point, his thumbnail scratching along the skin of his middle finger to help him concentrate.

“Isn’t it happiness? Trying your best to make the other person happy?”

“I’m not sure if I’m able to do that, Taemin. All I want for you is to be happy, but I doubt that I’m capable of doing that.”

Jonghyun let go of Taemin’s wrist then, and the small gesture made his heart ache.

“But you are already making me happy,” Taemin insisted. “Being with you makes me happy.”

He was the one to take Jonghyun’s hand now, holding it tightly to show that he was serious, because putting all heartache aside, he _was_ happy when he was together with Jonghyun. Not only when they were having sex but also during their regular anime marathons or even studying together in the kitchen, the older one passing him fruit candy or sending him encouraging smiles whenever Taemin was lost in math formulas.

“Are you sure about that? Are you sure you won’t be fed up after just a few weeks or months?”

“You can never be sure about something like that, Jonghyun. All you can do is try to make things work.”

Taemin tried to be sensible. The lovestruck teenager in him wanted to tell Jonghyun that he believed in eternal love and that nothing would be able to separate them, something he had told his girlfriends in the past, but his mature side didn’t want to tell lies, didn’t want to be irrational. There was no other feeling as uncertain as love – as quickly as it came sometimes, it could pass again just as quickly, and no one had control over it.

“But I need that certainty.”

Jonghyun’s words seemed final as he turned off the water and opened the shower door, handing Taemin one of his towels before he dried himself with the remaining one. For the first time, Taemin reconsidered the conversation he’d had with Kibum a while ago, the one he had tried to erase from his memory as soon as Kibum had disappeared into his room, because he didn’t want to believe anything the other had said in regard to Jonghyun. But what if Kibum was right after all? What if Jonghyun was truly looking for a type of relationship that was impossible to achieve?

“Jonghyun, I can’t give you that certainty, no one can,” Taemin tried to explain, toweling himself dry before putting his boxers back on.

“I’m aware of that, Taemin-ah. Welcome to my world.” Jonghyun spread his arms out wide, still naked with just a pair of slippers on his feet and a towel in his left hand.

Fake excitement rang in his voice, a tone that made Taemin feel sad, because for a second he wondered if he even knew the other at all. Why hadn’t he been concerned by the revelation that a handsome and nice guy like Jonghyun had never been in a relationship? Had he been so blinded by the other’s sexual experience that it hadn’t even occurred to him that not a single person out of the 52 the other had had sex with before him had turned into a significant other, despite Jonghyun obviously liking the idea of love?

Jonghyun didn’t even bother to wrap the towel around his hips when he walked back to his room, Taemin hurriedly following to enter after him.

“Why haven’t you ever been in a relationship?”

The question burned on his tongue now, and as soon as it had left his mouth, Taemin felt a measure of relief – like he had asked an important question at least once in his life. Jonghyun hung his towel over the back of his chair and spread it out neatly, his back facing Taemin as he grabbed a bottle of lotion from his desk.

“It just never happened. That’s life, I guess,” he explained nonchalantly as he opened the bottle and squeezed milky liquid into his hand, generously rubbing the lotion over both of his arms and wafting its almond scent over to Taemin. It was probably past two in the morning by now and they were talking about relationships while Jonghyun stood naked in his bedroom, _moisturizing_. It wasn’t a scenario Taemin had ever envisioned taking place between them.

“What about me?”

“What about you?” Jonghyun asked right back and turned around to face Taemin while he spread more lotion over his body.

“I want to be in a relationship with you.” Taemin had a hard time concentrating on their conversation and keeping his eyes above chest level as he witnessed how Jonghyun massaged lotion into his pecs and abs, as if someone was paying him for it.

Jonghyun took a long breath before admitting, “I don’t know. You are different and it starts confusing me.”

He had expected to hear Jonghyun’s go-to answer of them only being friends with benefits and Taemin shouldn’t get his hopes up, but the change in his wording baffled the younger and he wasn’t sure what to reply, standing in the middle of Jonghyun’s room, mouth agape.

“Lotion?” Jonghyun held the bottle in Taemin’s direction as he bent down to moisturize his legs, the younger blinking before he shook his head ‘no’.

“You should, though. Your elbows are always super-dry.”

As if their previous exchange of words hadn’t even taken place, Jonghyun came up to Taemin and began to rub lotion on him as well, seemingly unfazed by the puzzled expression on the younger’s face.

“Try to integrate this into your routine after taking a shower. It will make your skin much softer,” Jonghyun explained in a calm voice, holding Taemin’s arm up while spreading the lotion on it with his other one. ~~~~

“Why am I different and what is so confusing about it?” Taemin interrupted the other’s chatter as Jonghyun’s hands moved over to cream his chest.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. You are like a book of seven seals. I usually don’t like that at all, but somehow it doesn’t bother me that much in your case, and I haven’t figured out why.”

Jonghyun didn’t look up while speaking, his eyes directed at Taemin’s stomach as his hands roamed over the younger’s skin, spreading the lotion evenly. It wasn’t the most convenient time to get a hard-on, but it seemed unavoidable with Jonghyun’s hands kneading into his skin, making it difficult for him not to perceive this sort of grooming as a form of foreplay. Taemin was glad when the other decided to ignore the small tent that had formed at the front of his boxers and moved on without mentioning it.

“Why are you the only one in this apartment who has a hard time figuring me out? The others seem to know what’s going on just by looking at my face,” Taemin pointed out, remembering how often Minho and Jinki had called him out on his bad poker face, and he didn’t even spend that much time with the senior in their group.

“Maybe I’m too much of a narcissist.”

Taemin held onto the hem of his boxers as Jonghyun moved on to his legs, the strong, pervasive strokes along his thighs making the twitching in his crotch worse. He sighed in relief when Jonghyun finally let go of him and placed the lotion back on the desk, a short moment that Taemin used to collect his thoughts. There was so much new information to take in and he had no idea what to do with it, unsure if knowing that he might actually have a chance with Jonghyun would change anything at all. Maybe it wasn’t time to give up _just_ yet. He wanted to pave his way to Jonghyun’s heart but didn’t know which direction he was supposed to take now.

“Can you push your hair back for a minute?”

Jonghyun had turned back toward him with a small container of face cream, making Taemin feel like he was five again, when his mother had still helped him to take care of his personal hygiene.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked as he pushed his wet hair out of his face and watched Jonghyun dip his forefinger into the cream, then spread small spots of it on Taemin’s forehead, cheeks, nose and chin.

“No reason,” was the answer Taemin had to live with. He had to look asquint when Jonghyun started to rub the cream into his skin, his expression making the older one snicker.

“You are cute, Taemin-ah.”

The genuine smile on Jonghyun’s face was somewhat comforting and Taemin returned it, patiently standing still until the older one was done with pampering him. Jonghyun moisturized his own face before he put the cream away and sat down on his bed with a sigh, rolling his head between his shoulders.

“Will you sleep here?” Jonghyun asked.

“If you let me,” Taemin replied carefully, not quite sure how else to answer. Their talk in the shower and then the sudden switch to insignificant topics like body care had taken its toll on him, and he didn’t know what to say anymore. Maybe it was best to postpone their conversation to a time when both of them had slept some and their minds weren’t clouded by alcohol.

“Sure, just turn off the light.”

With these words, Jonghyun scrambled beneath the blanket and skidded closer to the wall. After shutting off the light, Taemin stumbled a little helplessly through the dark room and knocked his shin against Jonghyun’s bed before slipping beneath the blanket and snuggling up to the older one, who had turned his back toward the younger. He tried to forget their previous conversation and acted the way he normally would, moving as close as possible to Jonghyun and hugging him from behind, his top leg settling on Jonghyun’s hip and his nose nuzzling his neck. The scent of almonds was almost intoxicating, and Taemin’s nose automatically started running over the expanses of Jonghyun’s neck until said one ducked his head with a soft chuckle.

“What are you doing?” he asked into the darkness, his voice very soft and mellow.

“Sniffing you.”

There was another quiet laugh and Jonghyun’s ass pressed against him, not sure whether the movement had been deliberate, to tease him, or unintentional, to find a more comfortable position.

“I always thought I was the only one who did that,” Jonghyun confessed, his butt moving forward a bit to push back against him once again, the intention now clear even to Taemin. Yet he decided not to respond to the other’s advances and kept his hand still on Jonghyun’s tummy.

“I like the way you smell,” Taemin admitted sheepishly and tried to swallow a moan as Jonghyun began to rub against him, not as subtly as he had done before. He could feel his cock hardening once more and frustration bubbled up inside of him, as he remembered that he had been left hanging high and dry the previous times that had happened this evening. On top of that, he really couldn’t fathom Jonghyun’s behavior; the constant push and pull mixed with cryptic speeches about love and relationships. Taemin wasn’t even sure if Jonghyun realized how contradicting he sometimes was or how hard it was to follow his train of thought. 

“Hey, Taemin-ah.” The sound of Jonghyun’s voice was different now, still gentle but a little lower as he stretched himself and wound his arm back around Taemin’s neck, burying his fingers in his hair.

“Mmh?”

The hand that had been in his hair for mere seconds vanished again and set forth on a journey south instead, playfully sliding down Taemin’s arm before it skipped to his hips, fingers disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers.

“Are you tired?” Jonghyun’s fingers closed around his growing erection and Taemin wanted to roll his eyes at the question, its only purpose being mockery.

“What do you think?” he asked dumbly, leaning forward to bite into the other’s neck out of spite. A stifled sound left Jonghyun’s lips, his fingers tightening their grip around Taemin.

“Feels quite awake to me,” Jonghyun pointed out while Taemin’s fingers embarked on their own journey. He began to smile against Jonghyun’s skin when he reached his destination and noted that their little cat-and-mouse game hadn’t left the older unaffected, as drops of precum wet his fingertips.

“Does rubbing yourself against me turn you on that much?” Taemin started teasing back, having learned too much in the past few months to let himself be treated like an inexperienced greenhorn. When he didn’t receive a reply, he let his hand wander toward Jonghyun’s butt, following the soft curve with his fingers, perplexed when the other’s hand stopped him.

“No starfish punching tonight. I had too much to eat for dinner.”

“ _Starfish punching_?” Taemin started laughing, lapping at the soft skin behind Jonghyun’s ear.

“Sounds cute, right? I read it online,” Jonghyun explained, as Taemin pressed his forehead against the other’s back, chuckling.

“Way to kill the mood,” he continued, finding the comparison between a starfish and a butt hole hilarious.

“Shut up,” was the next thing Taemin heard, said not in an aggressive tone but rather in a playful one. When Jonghyun turned around, he fell silent, swallowing as the older regarded him with that one look that had so often made him forget his own name in the past. At this point Taemin had gotten used to it, but it still made his insides tingle pleasantly.

“I want to try something. Sit up.”

A little unwillingly, Taemin sat up with a groan, having hoped for some easy and relaxed spooning or maybe some smooth sailing in the missionary position. Nothing too fancy or exhausting, more like a goodnight snack to help him fall asleep.

“Ever heard of _diamērizein_?” Jonghyun asked as they knelt face-to-face on the mattress, his hands fanned out on Taemin’s chest.

“Nope, but I’m guessing it’s not a dish,” Taemin reckoned, tipping his head when Jonghyun leaned forward to kiss his neck.

“Not quite,” he breathed against Taemin’s skin and placed several gentle kisses along his carotid artery before coming to a halt at the top of his collarbone, hands skidding down to Taemin’s boxers and pulling them down over his butt, Taemin’s erection springing free. “It’s ancient Greek and literally means ‘doing something between one’s legs,’” he explained and lifted his head to look at Taemin with a grin.

“It’s kind of sexy when you talk nerd to me.” Taemin’s sly smile was met by an impish one, Jonghyun biting into his bottom lip as his hands held onto Taemin’s hips.

“Is that so? Should I put on my glasses?” Jonghyun’s voice had taken on a sensual nuance, slightly lower in pitch, each syllable oozing with unvoiced promises. It was one of Jonghyun’s specialties: using his voice to make people submit to him. Taemin knew the game by now, knew all the rules, and yet he was always the one losing in the end.

Jonghyun let his right hand wander down to Taemin’s cock, giving it a few tugs before inching closer until their lower stomachs were touching, Jonghyun’s erection pressing against Taemin’s. 

“So what do you mean, exactly, by ‘doing something between one’s legs’?” Taemin asked, not very intelligently, and looked down between their bodies as he fumbled with his boxer shorts to get rid of them, enjoying the sensation of their dicks brushing against each other with every little movement.

“Well,” Jonghyun said, then paused and straightened up before he spread his legs slightly to guide Taemin’s cock in-between his thighs. “Doing something between one’s legs, _just like that_ ,” he illustrated as he closed his legs again and tensed the muscles in his thighs, sending a pleasant tremor running from Taemin’s cock right to his core.

“Isn’t this something teenage boys do in shower rooms after P.E.?”

“Oh really? Is this something _you_ did in the shower rooms after P.E.? Want to take a seat in my confessional box?” With a smirk on his lips, Jonghyun reached for Taemin’s right hand, taking it in his and leading it to his mouth, to suck on his forefinger – the one Taemin wore his rosary ring on, that had been given to him by his mother.

“There is nothing to confess. I’m an innocent boy,” Taemin replied, Jonghyun chortling in response and almost biting into his finger in an attempt to control himself. It wasn’t usual for them to laugh this much while being intimate, and Taemin wondered if it was the alcohol that made everything a little funnier.

“Yeah, you’ve still got that sweet vanilla flavor on you,” Jonghyun agreed, grinning like the Cheshire cat, giving Taemin’s finger one last suck before the younger pulled it out of Jonghyun’s mouth and replaced it with his tongue.

The movements of his hips started naturally as he kissed Jonghyun, his thrusts very slow and tentative at first, as he needed to adjust his height by spreading his legs a little, Jonghyun’s thigh bones being shorter than his own. The feeling of his erection pushing through the gap between the other’s thighs was foreign yet nice, both hands positioned on Jonghyun’s hips to steady himself. Jonghyun had his own hands placed on Taemin’s cheeks, pulling him closer as they kissed, his thighs tensing whenever Taemin pushed forward to heighten the sensation.

“What does it feel like?” Jonghyun asked in-between kisses, combing through Taemin’s wet hair, wrapping a strand of it around his fingers.

“Good,” Taemin replied, apparently not convincingly enough, because a small pout appeared on Jonghyun’s lips.

“Just ‘good’?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

“Yeah, it’s nice – but I miss having some sort of leverage that would allow me to really go for it,” Taemin explained and halted, eyes cast downwards to see Jonghyun’s erection nestled between their tummies.

“‘Really go for it’?”

Jonghyun raised an eyebrow in amusement, about to say something further when they heard the front door open, followed by the sound of shoes being tossed away, accentuated by dull curses and low giggles.

“ _We’re home!_ ” they heard someone yell loudly, the voice suspiciously sounding like it belonged to Jinki, followed by a “Jinki, _shhhh_ , shut up,” which definitely belonged to Kibum.

“They’re home early,” Jonghyun noted with a sigh, letting his forehead sink against Taemin’s shoulder. Taemin heard feet waddle along the corridor past Jonghyun’s room, one pair seemingly trying to move as quietly as possible while the other didn’t seem to care.

“I wonder if they are home. Should we check?”

That was clearly Jinki. A snort came from Kibum, followed by a knock on the door.

“Jonghyun?”

Jinki’s voice was soft and sounded so drunk that Taemin couldn’t help but smile, nudging Jonghyun’s temple with his nose to make him look up again. They were about to go back to kissing when the door suddenly swung open, Taemin’s heart almost jumping out of his chest.

“ _Oooops,_ sorry!” Jinki babbled, smiling drunkenly at them as his head peeked inside, his hair thoroughly tousled.

“Yah, this is not some peep show,” Jonghyun shouted. “Close the door!”

He grabbed the first, best thing he could find – a smaller neck pillow – and threw it in Jinki’s direction, hitting him square in the face. The older one stumbled back, grumbling some incoherent gibberish under his breath, and the door fell shut again a second later.

“Bull’s eye!” Taemin quipped, relieved that the door was closed again and they could continue. But he had crowed too soon, the door opening once again as he leaned forward to kiss Jonghyun’s neck. This time, however, the lights were turned on, and Taemin shielded his eyes, swearing under his breath.

“Well, _well, well_ – is that the right way to treat your senior, Jong?”

Kibum’s voice turned Taemin’s stomach and he wanted to hide behind Jonghyun, embarrassed to be found butt-naked with his dick between his flat-mate’s thighs.

“Ki, don’t be a dick; turn the light off.”

Jonghyun sounded rather agitated now, a side he rarely showed; something apparently only Kibum was capable of unleashing.

“Why? Is our little Taeminnie here a little shy or something?”

Kibum was even more annoying when he was drunk, and Taemin could feel his dick softening with every word that left the other’s mouth. Maybe he should consider thinking of Kibum in the future, instead of something sad, if he popped a boner in inappropriate situations.

“Kibum, _please_ ,” Jonghyun tried once again, the tone of his voice more pleading.

Kibum looked them up and down, then turned off the lights with a sweet smile on his lips. “Good night,” he chirped and closed the door to leave them alone.

Taemin let out a long breath and fell sideways into the pillows, his libido killed by the mere existence of Kim Kibum. “I hate him,” he mumbled and looked at Jonghyun who lay down next to him and stroked his side.

“He can be a real dick sometimes,” Jonghyun agreed with a sigh, fingers starting to draw circles on Taemin’s stomach.

“ _Sometimes?_ ”

Jonghyun started laughing at Taemin’s scandalized response and dipped his forefinger into the other’s belly button several times in a row, until Taemin caught his wrist and kept him from continuing.

“I guess you are not in the mood anymore?” Jonghyun asked as he looked down at Taemin, seemingly saddened when Taemin shook his head.

“No, not in the mood for Greek dishes. I just want to close my eyes and forget the past minute,” he admitted and guided Jonghyun’s arm around him, wanting to be hugged.

“It’s that bad?” Jonghyun moved closer to embrace Taemin, the younger one resting his head against his chest, one leg hugging Jonghyun’s waist like he always did.

“Worse than that!” he mumbled, a soft whine falling from his lips when he heard loud moans resounding from Kibum’s room. It surprised him that Jonghyun didn’t exhibit any notable changes in his posture after Kibum’s voice became audible. Instead of showing any obvious discomfort, he started to caress Taemin’s back, running his hand over it in soothing gentle circles.

“We should try using lube next time,” Taemin said, attempting to lighten up the mood, and nipped on Jonghyun’s collarbone in a reassuring fashion. “If there should be one,” he added tentatively, making Jonghyun chuckle.

“Afraid of chafing?” he teased.

“You should be. If I really get going, it might get very uncomfortable for both of us.”

The comment made Jonghyun laugh out again, and in the next second Taemin found himself pressed down onto his back with Jonghyun lying on top of him, hands placed on either side of his head.

“If you really get going? I wonder what that would look like. Taeminnie turning from vanilla to something spicy, _huh_?” Jonghyun mocked, leaning down to touch the tip of Taemin’s nose with his own.

“More like melon.”

“Melon?” Jonghyun wondered, leaning back to look into his face.

“Sweet, juicy, and very refreshing.” Taemin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, the gesture earning him another chuckle, then Jonghyun pressed a kiss to his forehead before skidding down so he could rest his face on Taemin’s chest.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Taemin-ah.”

Taemin wasn’t quite sure whether Jonghyun was trying to challenge or insult him, neither the tone of his voice nor his body language giving it away, so he didn’t know how to respond, instead lying stiffly on his back like a stranded whale.

When he didn’t say anything, Jonghyun lifted his head, eyes searching for Taemin’s. “That would have been the moment to tell me to shut up because you will rock my world for sure,” Jonghyun offered his help while Taemin crossed his arms behind his head.

“I’m already doing that all the time, so there is no need for me to say it,” he said flippantly, watching the other from the corner of his eye to await his reaction.

All he got in response was Jonghyun clicking his tongue, but he tried not to get disheartened, gently pushing the other off him to sit up. The constant moans from next door made him feel a little rebellious, a moment of madness overcoming him. “You don’t agree? That’s weird, since as far as I remember, I’m the only person besides Kibum that you’ve fucked more than once in your life. So if I don’t rock your world, why are you always coming back to me?”

It was a valid question that Taemin wouldn’t have asked in any other situation, but right then and there, with Jinki and Kibum fucking a few meters away and Taemin and Jonghyun both slightly drunk, it seemed appropriate to ask. Now Jonghyun appeared at a loss for words, something that rarely occurred and left Taemin weirdly triumphant.

“Because you are cute” was what Jonghyun finally came up with, this answer not being satisfactory to Taemin in the slightest.

 _Cute_. How much he hated that word.

“If this was a test, I would definitely fail you for saying that,” Taemin pointed out and got up from the bed, looking for his boxers.

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to say. What do you want to hear from me?”

All Taemin could do in response was snort as he struggled to step into his boxers without losing his balance, blinking when Jonghyun suddenly turned on his bedside lamp.

“Tell me, Taemin, what do you want to hear?” Jonghyun repeated as he sat up and crossed his legs.

It felt like they had the same conversation every other day, and it annoyed Taemin that Jonghyun was so dense as to not know – or at least _pretend_ to not know – what the younger wanted to hear from him. Jonghyun always painted himself as this deep, empathetic thinker who was two steps ahead in every situation, but whenever their conversation led to talking about their relationship or their feelings, he appeared to Taemin like a pubescent teen who had no clue how human relationships worked.

Taemin straightened up, took a long steady breath, and ran both hands through his hair before he turned to Jonghyun. “Don’t play dumb, okay? I just want you to admit that you like fucking me, that you like being with me, that you want to continue being with me because you care,” he said pointedly and held up his hand to silence the other before Jonghyun could even open his mouth. “I’m tired of this push and pull game you are playing. _Really_! I am so tired of it,” he added and bestowed Jonghyun with a look that he hoped resembled a silent reproach. “I don’t get why you are so against us being in a relationship if that’s what we are basically already having. We spend most of our free time together anyway. Nothing much would change,” he lunged out now, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“If nothing much would change, why aren’t you happy with what we have now?”

Taemin rarely rolled his eyes, but in this situation he couldn’t help it, pulling strands of his hair to hold back and _not_ flick Jonghyun’s forehead with his finger.

“Because your dick and your ass aren’t not enough for me in the long run, you know. I want all of this.” He made excessive gestures around Jonghyun’s body before pointing at his chest. “Including _this._ I don’t want to fear that you’ll end up in Kibum’s bed again or that some Gong Yoo lookalike will come along and you’ll be on your knees quicker than I can count to three.”

This last comment made Jonghyun snort and Taemin scrutinized him in response, which caused the older one to fall quiet immediately.

“I’m serious, Jonghyun,” he sighed, grabbing the other’s swivel chair and flopping down on it. “I really want us to _be something_ , like for real. Not just flat-mates who fuck in their spare time. Not that ‘friends with benefits’ kind of bullshit. I want to go around and tell people ‘You know what – see that hot guy over there? Yeah – he’s my boyfriend, losers!’” he said, acting out a scene that he often fantasized about when bored during his lectures, the people in his mind always envying him for his relationship with Jonghyun. In reality, his fellow students would probably be weirded out, but Taemin didn’t care about that. It was _his_ fantasy, after all, and not anyone else’s.

“Why is a label so important to you? I don’t get it,” Jonghyun replied, visibly confused, Taemin noticing now, for the first time, how ridiculous it looked when a naked person sat cross-legged on a bed.

“Of course you don’t,” Taemin responded and leaned back in the chair until his head came over the backrest. “You are not the one who constantly has to listen to stuff like – ‘Taemin, be careful, he’s playing around with you.’ ‘Taemin, you are playing with fire.’ ‘Taemin, he’s not seriously interested in you, just wait and see.’ ‘Taemin, you are his little boy toy.’ – from his flat-mates.” He summarized the worries and mocking of the other three guys who lived with them in a snarky tone.

“Who gives a fuck what the others think?”

“ _I_ do. I fucking _do_.” Taemin pointed at himself, trying to smash a steel wall with his bare hands.

It was silent afterward, if one ignored the moans and the steady squeaking of Kibum’s bed nearby. Taemin played with the hem of his boxers, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long he could keep all this up before he went completely mad. It couldn’t be healthy to live like he was for a longer period of time.

“Taemin-ah, you would get bored of me.” Jonghyun’s voice had softened, and when Taemin turned his head to look at him, the other’s eyes were lowered.

“Why would I get bored of you?” A frown carved itself into Taemin’s forehead as he watched Jonghyun in bewilderment, not quite believing that someone could be so blind.

“Because people always get bored of me, of the way I am sometimes – the gloominess, the moodiness, Tae. It’s not something I can or want to hide. People have a hard time dealing with it, you know that,” Jonghyun explained, sounding weary, as if he had been talking for several hours nonstop.

“I’m not ‘people,’ okay? I don’t mind talking about anime breasts and monster cocks while hugging you at night when you feel down. You know that, too.”

Jonghyun snickered before he looked up with a slightly disgusted expression on his face, cocking his head as he asked warily, “Don’t tell me you also watch monster _hentai_ porn?”

“Occasionally.” Taemin shrugged nonchalantly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when the older one looked seriously repelled by his response.

“You are a real pervert.” Jonghyun grinned at him now, the expression making Taemin forget for a second what they had been talking about moments ago.

“I take that as a compliment.”

Taemin flexed his fingers before thrumming them on his thighs, leg twitching in a nervous rhythm as he waited for Jonghyun to say something; to continue telling his side of the story. The squeaking and moaning still hadn’t stopped, and Taemin secretly envied the stamina his flat-mates possessed, especially considering the blood alcohol level of at least one of them.

“They really seem to be enjoying themselves, _huh_?” he blurted out without thinking.

Jonghyun gave him a hinted smile in return, nodding halfheartedly, and Taemin bit his lip, not really knowing where they were going anymore. It seemed like they had reached another dead end and neither he nor Jonghyun knew how to go in reverse.

“Maybe it’s better if I sleep in my own bed tonight,” he said eventually and got up from the swivel chair, the movement causing Jonghyun to straighten up, skidding to the edge of the mattress and grabbing his hand.

“I thought you wanted to stay here?” Jonghyun held his hand very carefully, in a way that made it appear that he wasn’t trying to keep the younger from leaving but only wanted to direct Taemin’s attention back to him.

“Yeah, but I changed my mind. I think it’s better when I sleep in my own bed.”

The other let go of him as soon as he said that, and Taemin wondered if leaving Jonghyun was truly the right choice. But in the end it didn’t matter, because whether he stayed the night in Jonghyun’s bed or left for his own, they would continue to run aimlessly in a circle, wanting different things from each other. Though he wasn’t sure if Jonghyun even wanted _anything_ from him, besides his body.

“Good night,” was the last thing he said before leaving the room, taking a deep breath after he had closed the door behind himself.

The moaning coming from Kibum’s room was even louder in the corridor, but Taemin only rolled his eyes and shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a small bottle of banana milk from the fridge and popping the lid open on the way to his room. When he passed Jonghyun’s door he paused for a second, _wanting_ to go back inside and crawl into Jonghyun’s arms, _wanting_ to smell him and touch him, _wanting_ the other to speak softly into his ear until he fell asleep. It took all his willpower to move forward to his room and not give in, his bed cold and empty without Jonghyun in it when he crawled beneath the blanket at last.

It had been a while since Taemin had last slept alone, and his pillow smelled of Jonghyun’s cologne as he buried his face in it. Realizing that this only made him want to go back to the other’s room even _more,_ he turned onto his back, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips as he rubbed his face.

He tossed and turned around for about thirty minutes, hugging first his pillow and then his blanket in a weak attempt to substitute Jonghyun, before the door to his room opened softly and the real thing walked in. Jonghyun didn’t say anything, just came up to the bed and lay down next to Taemin, as naked as he had been when the younger left him behind in his room.

“I couldn’t sleep because you constantly kicked the wall.”

It was the lamest excuse Jonghyun could have possibly come up with, but Taemin was too exhausted to start another argument and decided to hum in response, winding his limbs around Jonghyun’s body like an octopus around its prey. He instantly was more at ease when he pressed his body close to the other’s, feeling its warmth, inhaling its scent. Neither of them said a word, the apartment covered by well-deserved silence, even their flat-mates having finally quietened down.

Taemin knew that this wasn’t the end of it, that this _couldn’t_ be the end of it. That tomorrow would be another day to keep on trying, to keep on boxing his way into Jonghyun’s heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: vomiting because of overdrinking, questionable hentai content (mentions of rape in a conversation about anime)

“Look, my mom sent me a new photo of Adam and Eve,” Taemin said as they lay together in Jonghyun’s bed in their underwear on a Friday night, covered by a blanket, both of them on their phones; Taemin checking social media while Jonghyun played a game which consisted of piling _chibi_ puppies on top of each other to win gold coins. They had turned the heater to 28°C, wanting to be cozy without having to wear layers of clothes.

Jonghyun closed the app before he turned toward the younger, head coming to rest on his shoulder. The photo on Taemin’s phone showed the family dogs posing after getting a trim, both of them wearing little bows around their necks and Adam – the small Maltese – sticking his tongue out in a funny fashion.

“Adam looks like a troublemaker,” Jonghyun chuckled and tapped the display to zoom in, mimicking the dog’s expression. “I really want to meet them. They look cute,” he added.

The thought of Jonghyun visiting Taemin in his hometown made his heart flutter. What he would give to make that happen. He would love to bring Jonghyun to his family’s house, show him the places he grew up in, pull him behind trees to kiss him secretly, and slip inside the guest bed in his father’s study at night to seduce Jonghyun with his parents only a few meters away.

“Even your dogs go to the hairdresser more often than you do. Have you even gone once since you came here?”

Taemin was pulled out of his thoughts as Jonghyun leaned over to grab his phone and placed it on the desk along with his own, then he crawled on top of Taemin and nuzzled his neck with little mewls, hands gliding down the younger’s arms. A puppy’s face and the movements of a cat; there was no other way to describe Jonghyun: a contradiction so sweet and yet so poisonous, the venom seeping into Taemin’s skin, tainting his heart, controlling him.

“Not once,” Taemin admitted.

His shaggy black hair was the longest it had ever been, almost down to his shoulders now. It had led to many awkward situations in the past few weeks, strangers mistaking him for a girl and looking at him weirdly whenever he entered a men’s public bathroom. He had wanted to get it cut plenty of times, but everything seemed more fun and interesting than sitting down in a hairdresser’s chair and paying way too much money for something he didn’t necessarily need. Sometimes he wondered how long it would take for his hair to reach his hips; how long it would take until he couldn’t stand it anymore and would cut it himself with dull kitchen scissors.

“You should try wearing it in a ponytail sometime,” Jonghyun breathed against his skin, stroking hair away from his neck to kiss it, warm showers running down Taemin’s back as he bared it more and pressed his hips up against Jonghyun, wanting to deepen their contact. Ever since their latest argument, Jonghyun had seemed needier, his behavior of acting like a dog in heat making it harder for Taemin to stay mad at him. Taemin hadn’t touched on the topic of being in an actual relationship with each other since their night out, too afraid that it would lead toward another argument and, at worst, to Jonghyun pulling away from him and ignoring him entirely.

“I put it up when I go to the gym with Minho.” Taemin’s hands grasped Jonghyun’s arms, fingernails digging into his biceps as the other pulled at Taemin’s skin with his teeth, a sharp sensation piercing him. The last hickey on his neck hadn’t faded yet and Taemin wondered whether Jonghyun wanted to make sure that it stayed where it was or if he wanted to place another right next to it, marking him; putting him on a leash like a dog.

“I bet he likes that,” Jonghyun murmured after he was done and checked the results by lifting away, his thumb stroking over a spot next to Taemin’s Adam’s apple. “You need some kohl and piercings and you will be every emo’s wet dream.”

Taemin swallowed the comment of only wanting to be in _Jonghyun’s_ wet dreams and let his hands wander to the other’s broad shoulders and down his back, liking the feel of Jonghyun’s muscles under his touch. He wanted to grace every subtle line with his fingers, draw a map on his skin with the crotch marking the X, the treasure one could find at the end of a long tedious journey.

As Jonghyun sat up, his butt settled comfortably in Taemin’s lap, their blanket slipping from his shoulders and bunching around his hips. Taemin couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have Jonghyun of all people sitting in his lap, and his hands reached forward to close around the other’s small waist, thumbs kneading into his hips. There was a big uneven mark right next to Jonghyun’s belly button; still fresh, not even a day old, dark red with hints of purple at the edges. It hadn’t been Taemin’s intention to go that far, to put so much suction into the bite while he had jerked the other off, but the longer his lips and teeth had lingered on Jonghyun’s skin, the more the other’s dick had grown harder and bigger in Taemin’s hand without him moving a single finger.

Maybe both of them enjoyed being in pain; a hidden streak flickering underneath their skin.

“Ever considered dyeing your hair?” Jonghyun asked as he moved his butt in slow and teasing movements, Taemin struggling to concentrate on anything the other said as blood rushed to his groin.

“No, not yet,” he said and gulped as Jonghyun shifted his weight and began moving his pelvis back and forth, his intentions clear. The bulge in his boxers rubbed against Taemin’s stomach, making the muscles in his body tense.

“Blond – I think blond would suit you.” Jonghyun pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, hands reaching behind himself to hold onto Taemin’s thighs, using them as leverage to press his butt more insistently against the younger. Taemin lost focus, Jonghyun’s words a mere buzz in his ears as he nodded helplessly, hands caressing the other’s chest, warm skin under his fingertips.

Watching the other’s bulge grow in his red briefs heightened Taemin’s arousal, and he accommodated Jonghyun’s rhythm, moving along with him, one hand wandering down to touch him, earning a soft moan. A small spot turned a darker red as precum seeped through his briefs, making Taemin’s mouth water. When feeling him through fabric wasn’t nearly enough, Taemin slipped a hand underneath a pant leg and grabbed Jonghyun’s half-hard dick and gave it a few lazy strokes, the other smiling down at him with hazy eyes. Jonghyun leaned in to kiss him, Taemin complying immediately and welcoming the other’s tongue as it sneaked into his mouth, his hands coming out of Jonghyun’s underwear to grab his butt and pull him closer.

“I’ve been thinking about getting another piercing or tattoo. What do you think?” Jonghyun whispered after breaking their kiss, the tip of his tongue teasing Taemin’s top lip.

The mental image of more piercings and tattoos decorating Jonghyun’s body excited Taemin and he buried his fingers deeper into Jonghyun’s buttocks, lips trying to catch the other’s to involve him in another kiss. It was crazy how addicted he was to Jonghyun, how much he craved body contact whenever Jonghyun was near, how easy it was for him to submit and let Jonghyun do as he pleased. He wasn’t sure if it was even possible for him to ever get enough of it – to get enough of the body he considered to be such a perfect match to his own.

“I think it would look hot,” he said, fingers probing at Jonghyun’s hole through his briefs, another soft mewl making the hairs on Taemin’s arms stand up. There was something so tantalizing and straight up _erotic_ about Jonghyun’s voice that wrapped itself around him like a silken ribbon.

“Yeah?” Jonghyun asked against his lips, moving his hips against Taemin’s fingers, getting visibly impatient.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Taemin replied weakly and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic, Jonghyun’s hole tightening as Taemin’s fingertips brushed against it. He wanted to feel the other around him so badly, to push the underwear aside and put his dick right into him, to hear that needy moan erupting from the other’s lungs. Jonghyun placed both his hands on Taemin’s cheeks, squishing them, kissing him deep, making him squirm as the other’s pelvis rocked against him, putting pressure on his dick, _want_ turning into _need_.

“What about you?” Jonghyun panted against his lips.

“Me?”

A peck. “Yeah, didn’t you say you wanted to get one?"

“A tattoo?” Taemin asked, liking how Jonghyun moved against his finger, eager to feel it inside of him, and whining deep in his throat when Taemin didn’t grant him that pleasure. “I thought a quote or something might be nice. I - it’s permanent.”

A chuckle echoed through the room before Jonghyun’s lips found their way onto his again. “Yeah, that’s the thing about tattoos,” he mumbled into the kiss, Taemin’s hands tugging at the seam of Jonghyun’s briefs, pulling them over the swell of his butt. Jonghyun grinned at him, thumb running over Taemin’s bottom lip and slipping inside, touching his teeth.

Taemin sucked on the digit, watching the satisfied look on Jonghyun’s face as he did so, his eyes drowning in the other’s. “Take me with you in case you make up your mind,” Jonghyun said as Taemin spread his cheeks, his pelvis pressing against the younger’s fingers as they skimmed along his cleft. “I will hold your hand if you want me to,” Jonghyun promised, but Taemin was no longer paying close enough attention to respond, his eyes fixed on the other’s lips, the bottom one so plush and red and tempting. He wanted to bite into it; melt into it.

What was Jonghyun doing to him? Playing these mind games, twisting him around his little finger, never realizing how it worsened the ache in Taemin’s chest. “Did you forget how to talk?” Jonghyun questioned, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips. He leaned down to kiss Taemin once more when the other nodded briskly and growled at the back of his throat as Taemin pushed the tip of his thumb into him.

* * *

“I still can’t believe we got you out of your scientist’s hole and into the gym,” Minho said in a overexcited tone, running at a moderate pace on his treadmill, Jinki to his left and Taemin to his right, on the upper floor of the university’s gym.

“My stamina has gotten worse. Even walking up the stairs has become exhausting,” Jinki answered, already sounding out of breath, sweat rolling down his temples.

The pieces of sports equipment around them were all unoccupied, the space deserted at 4pm, only one of the student assistants running around to check if weights had been put back and everything was clean. The treadmills were aligned in front of the ceiling-high windows, and Taemin looked out to watch pedestrians cross the park in front of the gym as he suffered through their warm-up, another of Minho’s stupid ideas he shouldn’t have agreed to.

“It didn’t sound like you had a problem with your stamina when you fucked Kibum,” Taemin denounced, side-eyeing his jogging partners. Minho roared with laughter, reaching forward to increase the speed of the treadmill, not one single pearl of sweat glistening on his skin.

It had been awkward facing Jinki for the first time after the oldest had stumbled into Jonghyun’s room to find his flat-mates busy with their dicks out, but neither Jinki nor Taemin had mentioned anything regarding it since, which made Taemin believe that they had come to the mutual understanding that it was better to pretend like that encounter had never occurred.

“That’s something else. Sexual stamina doesn’t count. If your cock is hard you just go for it,” he explained, a deep frown on his face, cheeks red and hair sticking to his forehead.

“A high five to that, I want that printed on a shirt,” Minho said and raised his hand, to be met by a look of disapproval from Jinki’s side. Taemin had no idea where all the energy raging through Minho’s body came from, as he was already exhausted from just _watching_ his flat-mate. He was a couch potato, not an athlete; keyboards and joysticks were his weapons of choice, not treadmills or benches.

“How are things with Jonghyun? Any progress?”

It was surprising that this question was posed by Jinki and not Minho, who was usually the one with his nose deep down in Taemin’s business. Their oldest flat-mate tended to listen from the sidelines, sometimes appearing to not even pay attention to what was being said before he phrased an elaborate advice out of nowhere, astonishing everyone.

“Why? Want to tell me that I should stop sleeping with him again?” Taemin went into defense mode in an instant, remembering how quickly the conversation had turned unpleasant the last time he had hung out with Minho and Jinki. He liked both of them a lot and was happy to share an apartment with them, but their pieces of advice were suffocating. Taemin wanted to be allowed to make his own mistakes and grow from them; he didn’t want their protection – didn’t _need_ it.

“No – it’s a genuine question. You are right. Gain new experiences and if it’s with Jonghyun, then it’s with Jonghyun. You two are spending a lot of time together,” Jinki said and subtly touched his own neck, Taemin mimicking the gesture instinctively, remembering that his neck was covered in reddish marks for everyone to see.

He appreciated Jinki’s change of heart, but he wondered if the other had come to it himself or if Jonghyun had talked to them about it after their night at the pool hall. Maybe Taemin should have asked Jonghyun about it, but he hadn’t dared to, always worrying that a conversation in this direction would cause Jonghyun to retract his antennas and hide in his snail shell. It was annoying because Taemin wanted clarity, Jonghyun’s words ‘ _What am I going to do with you, Lee Taemin_?’ still haunting him at night because he didn’t know what to make out of them.

“I’m still single and still in love with my flat-mate, who likes to sleep with me but doesn’t want to call me his boyfriend,” he admitted openly and sighed, having a hard time not sounding bitter and petty.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with calling you my boyfriend,” Minho interjected without even casting a glance at Taemin.

Of course he wouldn’t. Minho had done well in turning it down around Taemin, but sometimes comments like these still slipped out and all Taemin could do was throw pitiful looks at him. He had no idea what Minho saw in him; an ass with two legs? Taemin didn’t have much ass to speak of – not much to entice anyone with, anyway. So what was there to like about him?

Sighing deeply, Taemin ignored the comment and continued to run, forehead creasing when reality hit him and the display on the treadmill revealed that they had barely finished 15 minutes. To him it felt like they had already completed a half-marathon.

“Jonghyun’s cute, I get that,” Jinki began, wiping sweat out of his face with his arm. “He’s very good-looking and all, but he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” He looked over at Taemin, who watched the numbers on the display switch, seconds appearing like hours, the blinking red decimal digits barely moving up. “Yesterday he sat at the kitchen table and worked on his thesis. I grabbed a snack from the fridge and when I turned to him, he looked out the window, saying something like ‘Do you think mayflies are aware of their short lifespan? Isn’t it pitiful that they don’t even have mandibles to eat during that time? If they knew how short their lives are, do you think they would live it differently?’ He said that with such a serious expression that I had honestly no idea what to answer and stood at the kitchen counter, feeling extremely uncomfortable.” Jinki told his story while gesturing around, Minho nodding along to every word he said.

“His pseudo-deep attitude can get quite exhausting, right? How do you do it?” Minho turned his head to look at Taemin, who blinked at him in confusion, having no idea what the other was asking him. “I mean, no offence, but you don’t seem like the type who thinks about stuff too deeply, you know. You are on Planet Earth while Jonghyun’s mind seems to be up on the moon,” he elaborated further, increasing the speed by two digits, the sound of the treadmill getting louder and Minho’s steps faster.

“No offence taken,” Taemin replied as he finally gave up and stopped the treadmill, his legs shaking when he stepped off and felt solid, unmoving ground underneath his feet again. “We actually never talk about deep stuff,” he added and grabbed his towel from the hand grips to dry his face and neck. It wasn’t necessarily his fault. Every attempt to speak about something more personal or address Jonghyun’s past was blocked immediately, leaving Taemin wondering if he knew the other at all.

“What are you talking about when you are alone together? You can’t be fucking non-stop, right?”

Jinki’s comment made Taemin think and he tried to summarize his conversations with Jonghyun into categories, the results rather sobering. They were like middle schoolers who swept Pokémon cards on the schoolyard and shared their break-time snacks.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Fun stuff, I guess; anime and computer games. We talk about sex a lot – if we aren’t having it. We rarely talk about anything serious,” Taemin said as he positioned himself between Jinki’s and Minho’s treadmills and watched their backs. They didn’t even properly talk about their relationship to each other, Jonghyun freezing up and not giving in to any attempts, no matter how hard Taemin tried.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Jinki pointed out and turned off the treadmill, seemingly happy that Taemin had been the first one to end his endurance training, so the older could stop running without feeling guilty about it.

“The problem is that we don’t talk about the lifespan of mayflies?”

“No, the problem is that our little Nietzsche probably won’t find serious stimulation of the mind when all you do is talk about anime.” Visibly exhausted, Jinki got off the treadmill and threw his towel over his head, looking like a bride in her veil who was ready to get married.

“Even if I wanted to, I have no clue about philosophy or literature. I don’t actually think he minds that. He never seemed like he wanted to talk about that kind of stuff with me anyway.”

When Jinki’s face reappeared from behind the towel he looked skeptical, as if he didn’t quite believe him.

“It doesn’t need to have anything to do with his majors, Taemin-ah. Show him that there is more to you than a pretty face who knows his way around computers.” Jinki patted him on the back and smiled at him sympathetically, Taemin not knowing what to reply. He wasn’t even sure why Jinki was trying to give him genuine advice now instead of telling him to keep his hands off Jonghyun and put on a chastity belt.

For Taemin, it was hard to believe that knowledge could be the key to Jonghyun’s heart when everything else had failed him. How was a discussion about Plato’s allegory of the cave or Kant’s doctrine of transcendental idealism supposed to help him win Jonghyun over? Would citing Descartes or Foucault make Jonghyun drop his clothes and heart and kneel down in front of Taemin for a soul striptease? He highly doubted it, considering that Kibum didn’t seem like a very philosophical person either and yet Jonghyun had wanted to have imaginary babies with him. Why was there a need for him to pretend to be someone he wasn’t when all it had taken for Kibum to bewitch Jonghyun - was his existence?

Wasn’t that unfair?

“Yah Jinki, don’t give him ideas. In the end they might work and I’ll have to beat retreat,” Minho called out from the treadmill, his legs still going strong, looking like they couldn’t be destroyed. The muscles in his calves tensed with every step, ready to run for another few kilometers.

“Oh come on, Ming, stop it now! If you had even the slightest chance with him, he would have already let you know. Where is your dignity, man?” Jinki questioned and used his towel to whip Minho’s thigh, making the other jump away with a startled yell.

“Yah, Lee Jinki,” he called out and rubbed his leg with a sulk. “I lost my dignity when I moved into that damn dorm.”

Taemin couldn’t have agreed more. There was something about their unit that seemed to let people throw out all common sense, and let them agree to things they wouldn’t normally agree to, and let them obsess over things they wouldn’t normally obsess over. It was like the place was jinxed, revealing everybody’s darkest traits; an alternate reality they entered as soon as they opened the apartment door.

Minho smiled at them when he eventually hopped from the treadmill and took a sip from his water bottle while Taemin decided to walk over to one of the sit-up benches, already feeling the pain in his tummy just from _looking_ at them. He thought about Jonghyun while crucifying himself, thought about Jinki’s words and whether they held any truth, thought about any possible topics he could discuss with Jonghyun that didn’t involve animated characters. What he had enjoyed the most about hanging out with the other – besides the sex – was the nature of their conversations: the serenity, the goofiness, the way he had always been able to be his dorky self. He didn’t want to give that up, didn’t want to change anything about their dynamic in an attempt to get closer to Jonghyun. What was the point in changing everything they had for the smallest chance of them becoming something more?

When Taemin flopped down on Jonghyun’s bed that same day, freshly showered, wearing an oversized yellow hoodie that covered the aching muscles in his tummy, he had one goal in mind – to talk about serious social matters, although he still doubted that sounding smart and educated would change anything about Jonghyun’s attitude. But Taemin was desperate, willing to try everything at least once – even if it meant selling parts of his soul to the devil. Taemin wanted to walk his own path, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t open to suggestions. Who knew, maybe Jinki had solved the Rubik’s Cube before he had.

He had put on his glasses, which he usually only wore in class, to appear more like an intellectual, and he had downloaded a news app to read up on stuff and inform himself about what was going on in the world. He had quickly found out that being informed was a bad idea, because the world seemed to be in an apocalyptic state, catastrophes all over the globe spoiling his mood.

Jonghyun sat at the desk in front of his laptop, typing down something in his writing program. He had told Taemin to wait five minutes so he could finish his paragraph, therefore the younger stayed silent, feet dangling from the bed, his arms hugging Jonghyun’s pillow. He held it close, sniffing it with a smile on his face, liking how much it smelled like the other.

“I’m almost done for today, just give me another minute,” Jonghyun announced a little later without even looking up, Taemin watching how his fingers flew swiftly over the keyboard. Even his hands were sexy: streaked with veins, fingers longer and thicker than Taemin’s own, fitting so perfectly inside of him. Taemin recalled their feel; the way they pushed in and out of him, stretched him open, made him beg for more, and he swallowed and crossed his legs as a familiar sensation arose in his loins, casting his eyes at the boring white wall next to Jonghyun’s head to distract himself.

“I’m in no rush; we have all night,” he managed to say, realizing quickly that this wasn’t helping his case when Jonghyun looked at him and gave one of those disarming smiles before facing his laptop again, resuming to type down one word after another.

“Those glasses look cute. Why have I never seen you wearing them before? New fashion accessory?” Jonghyun asked, sounding curious.

“Nah, they are prescribed, but I hate wearing them and only ever put them on to read the blackboard at university. I prefer to run around seeing everything a little fuzzy.”

“Makes you look very intelligent,” Jonghyun responded with a cheeky grin, and Taemin ducked the lower half of his face behind the pillow to hide a smile. At least he had accomplished his goal of looking smarter; now all he had to do was figure out if sophisticated conversations really made a difference in how Jonghyun perceived him. He was no fool; he would manage somehow. If all else failed, he might be able to toss some random astronomy facts at Jonghyun again.

Taemin straightened up when Jonghyun finally closed the document, shut down his laptop, and leaned back in his swivel chair to stretch with a loud sigh, closing his eyes.

“I’ll be so happy when this is done and I never have to think about it again,” he muttered, then stood up and stepped toward Taemin, positioning himself with his legs to either side of the younger’s. This was dangerous. Taemin preferred to have a bit of a distance between their bodies while they talked, not trusting his own hands to stay where they were with Jonghyun being so close.

“So,” Jonghyun began slowly, leaning down to rest his hands on Taemin’s thighs. “What do you have in mind for tonight?” He cocked one of his eyebrows, grinning at Taemin seductively. It would be so easy to grab the older one and kiss him, but as badly as he wanted to do that, Taemin had other plans for the night, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, trying not to fall into any of Jonghyun’s laid-out traps.

“Talking,” Taemin said carefully and moved closer to the wall as Jonghyun’s hands slid up his thighs. “Let’s talk about Park Geunhye,” he added and swallowed hard. She had been the headline of every news site he had visited.

“Park Geunhye?” Jonghyun looked visibly lost as he crawled onto the bed and sat down on Taemin’s thighs, Taemin liking the sensation of the other’s butt in his crotch a little too much to keep a straight face. “What about Park Geunhye?” he asked.

Taemin placed his hands on Jonghyun’s to stop him from opening his pants. “What are your thoughts on her impeachment?” he stammered, the pleasant weight in his lap making him dizzy. He could slip his hands underneath Jonghyun’s t-shirt to graze his skin, could nip at his neck and kiss him, but Taemin remained steadfast, not wanting to give up so easily.

“Do you really want to talk about politics?” Jonghyun was snickering now, moving over to try and open the zipper on Taemin’s hoodie, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t get far before Taemin stopped him once again and shook his head, holding his hands in place. “What’s going on here?” With a slight frown Jonghyun climbed off Taemin and settled down right next to him, leaning his back against the wall.

“I just want to talk – about things – _important_ things. We can also talk about the presidential election in the United States if you prefer that? Or the civil war in Syria? The situation in Turkey? – Brexit? We can also discuss the meaning of life? Where we came from and where we are going? We –”

“What’s this nonsense? Since when do you care about what’s happening in Syria?” Jonghyun mocked and nudged him with his elbow.

“Of course I do. _I’m an adult_ ,” Taemin replied, mildly offended, and crossed his arms in front of his chest with a little pout. It wasn’t the most adult thing to do, and upon closer contemplation, probably no ‘real’ adult would feel the need to say ‘ _I’m an adult_ ’ out loud to get their point across.

“You are so adorable.”

The grin on Jonghyun’s face only worsened Taemin’s pout. “Can you please stop acting like I’m five?” he begged, pulling one of his sleeves over his hand.

“Tae, come on, you know that I don’t do that.”

Taemin decided not to respond out of stubbornness and stared at the wall in front of him instead. Why did Jonghyun always feel the urge to question everything he said? Why couldn’t he have a conversation with him like every other human on this planet? It hurt to think that Jonghyun might have reacted differently if Minho, Jinki, or even Kibum had tried to talk about something more serious with him. It sucked to be treated differently by everyone around him just because he was the youngest. It wasn’t something he had chosen for himself, not his fault that he hadn’t been born the same year as Jonghyun.

“You know, for someone who always claims that he doesn’t want to hurt me, you never miss an opportunity to do so.” Taemin continued to look at the wall, his posture rigid.

“What did I do now? Are you upset because I questioned your motives? Come on, Taemin-ah.” Jonghyun gave his shoulder another playful push. “Remember when I read that article about the effects of global warming on agriculture and wanted to share it with you because I thought it was interesting, but instead of listening you decided to go down on me and suck me off so hard that _I dropped my phone?_ ”

Jonghyun’s voice grew higher at the end of the sentence and Taemin’s cheeks heated up as he recalled the scene, especially how the other had praised him for having a divine mouth after coming. Jonghyun’s cum had tasted extremely bitter that day, but Taemin would still have filled empty wine bottles with it. The phone’s display had suffered a crack at the corner from hitting the floor, and Taemin remembered that afternoon every single time his eyes fell on it.

“That was bad timing. I was too horny that day to concentrate on anything, so that doesn’t count,” Taemin tried to defend himself, lifting a finger to emphasize. To be fair, he couldn’t remember the last time he _hadn’t_ been horny.

Jonghyun clicked his tongue, stood up and said “Fair enough, then.” Leaning over his desk, he ran a finger over a pile of stacked-up books until he seemed to find what he was looking for and pulled one out.

“Open it to the page with the bookmark. It should be chapter 7 – ‘ _Instinct_ ,’ I believe,” he said as he sat back down next to Taemin and handed him the book.

Taemin took a quick look at the cover. ‘ _On the Origin of Species’_?” he asked in surprise, opening the book.

“Yeah, I started reading it a while ago, but due to all the stuff I have to read for my papers, I kind of forgot all about it. We can read the chapter together and then discuss it,” Jonghyun proposed and Taemin had a hard time not pulling a disgruntled face. Sucking Jonghyun off sounded way more tempting than reading Charles Darwin.

“But the book is completely outdated. It was written eons ago.”

“Late 1900s, yeah,” Jonghyun specified and moved around on the bed until he could place his head on Taemin’s thighs, legs bent and his arms folded on his stomach. “It’s always good to know what the things we know today are based on. Darwin created the basis of modern biology. It’s really interesting. Give it a try, at least. You were top of the class, _no_?”

With a sigh Taemin opened the book, wondering how far he was willing to go to move up in Jonghyun’s favor. Didn’t motivational quotes always say something along the lines of not changing oneself for someone? To be true to oneself? That the person wasn’t worth it if they didn’t accept you the way you were? Taemin wondered if those people had ever encountered Jonghyun. Maybe they would be up for a change as well if they had ever been sucked off by Jonghyun.

“ _The subject of instinct might have been worked into the previous chapters; but I have thought it would be more convenient to treat the subject separately, especially as so wonderful an instinct as that of the hive-bee making its cells will probably have occurred to many readers, as a difficulty sufficient to overthrow my whole theory. I must premise, that I have nothing to do with the origin of the primary mental powers, any more than I have with that of life itself.”_

Taemin stopped there, mentally unable to continue reading. He understood nothing, _absolutely nothing_ , his head an empty and abandoned bees’ nest. “I have no idea what I just read,” he admitted, “So either you summarize the previous six chapters for me or –” There was a short pause before he continued, “Or we read something else, like _Harry Potter_.”

There was a light chuckle from Jonghyun’s direction as he turned onto his side and tugged lightly at Taemin’s sweatpants. “We could also be doing something far more entertaining than reading, _hm_?”

Despite his dick reacting to the prospect of having Jonghyun’s lips wrapped around it, Taemin tried to stay strong, placing his hand on Jonghyun’s to pull it away.

“I’m not in the mood tonight,” he lied, a little unwillingly, his dick hating him for saying these words out loud.

“Well, I’m sure we could change that quite quickly if you let me.” Jonghyun attempted to convince Taemin to throw all his plans overboard, fingers caressing the insides of his thighs, making him shudder.

“No, _really_. Let’s watch a movie or something,” he caved in eventually, giving up on the idea of having sophisticated conversations about world politics with a cup of tea and butter cookies.

“So, no Park Geunhye and no Darwin?” Jonghyun asked him, with a small grin tugging at his lip.

Taemin shook his head in defeat and sighed, “No, no Park Geunhye and no Darwin.”

Looking around the room to find something to occupy himself, he halted at Jonghyun’s wardrobe, the books stacked on top of it reaching the ceiling. There were about six piles, and Taemin stood up on the mattress to take a closer look. “What about these?” he asked as his fingers browsed over the spines of the first pile, the titles a complete unknown to him.

“Novels I’ve read. I wanted to sort some out to make room for new ones, but I haven’t managed yet.”

The books were all in Korean, but upon closer inspection it was clear to see that a lot of them were translations, Taemin struggling to pronounce the authors’ names correctly in his head. “Bertolt Brecht?” he tried when he noticed that this name popped up several times in Jonghyun’s wardrobe library.

Taemin listened closely as the other stood up as well, the mattress sagging as Jonghyun came up behind him, hands slipping casually underneath his hoodie to wrap around his waist, his chin settling on Taemin’s shoulder. Why was Taemin even trying? Instead of pretending to start a two-man book club with Jonghyun, it would be so much easier to turn in the other’s arms and give in to the temptation.

“He’s one of my favorite poets.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Taemin admitted and took a stack of books into his hands to check out the covers, the one on top covered in a layer of dust.

“Well, he’s no Seo Jeongju, but I’ve always liked the way he writes. He’s very to the point. It resonates with me.”

Jonghyun’s hands slipped lower, playing with the elastic of Taemin’s sweatpants, while Taemin tried to ignore him as he studied the books, hoping that he would find one he knew - or at least, had heard of. Even with the other pressed to his back and feeling his dick against his ass, Taemin had never felt farther away from him, diving into unknown territory, discovering parts of Jonghyun he hadn’t paid attention to before. _There hadn’t been a need for it,_ he told himself. There was enough anime and video games to talk about to last their lifetime.

The last book in his hand caught his attention due its pretty cover, an enormous golden organ stretching out across the sleeve, the title ‘[ _The Organist_](https://m.blog.naver.com/PostView.nhn?blogId=eunro_&logNo=220934305460&proxyReferer=https:%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F)’ printed in the middle of it in a black clutter of notes.

“That’s a good one,” Jonghyun pointed out immediately, which compelled Taemin to flip it open and skim through it.

“What is it about?” he asked, stopping at a random page to browse the text and see if he liked the way it was written.

“It’s about a boy who grows up in this tiny-ass mountain village somewhere in Europe. He’s a gifted musician but people don’t recognize his talent and think he’s cursed. He falls in love with a girl from his neighborhood, but his love is unrequited - so he doesn’t really see a point in life anymore.”

Taemin hummed in acknowledgment, heart tumbling down into his stomach when he read what seemed like the protagonist’s inner monologue.

“ _You creator of all people, animals, the world and all stars. Why did you create me? Don’t the Scriptures say that you are perfect? But if you are perfect and good, why did you have to create misery, sin and pain? Why do you feast on my grief, the freakness of my eyes, the sorrow of my love? I have nothing more to lose and what I have lost, I have never owned. Yet you breathed something into my soul, something that seemed to me like paradise. You poisoned me. Why, you great, mighty and omniscient God? How can you deny me the happiness of my life? Aren’t you a god of love? So why won’t you let me love? Why did my heart have to ignite for her? Do you think I chose her out of my own free will? It was you who brought me to her,_ ” Taemin read out loud, finding it weird how easy it was for him to feel for this character he knew nothing about – not even his name – shivers running down his arms and back, making the fine hairs on his skin stand up.

If God was so great and mighty, why didn’t God allow Taemin to love Jonghyun? Did Taemin choose him out of his own free will? Jonghyun seemed like paradise and yet Taemin had been turned away at the gates, forbidden to be with him. “Can I borrow it?” he asked automatically and held the book up. Who knew what other feelings and sentiments he shared with that fictional character.

Jonghyun shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. You can take whatever book you want.”

The second Taemin shut the book and let it drop to the mattress to not forget later, Jonghyun’s hands slipped inside his sweatpants, fingers diving down to touch his pubic hair, curling into it, a little appreciative mewl piercing his ears.

“ _No underwear?_ ” he was asked in a whisper, Jonghyun’s lips touching his ear. Taemin felt a deep loathing for himself as blood rushed to his head and to his crotch, his defense opting for flight, leaving all their weapons behind.

_‘Aren’t you a god of love? So why won’t you let me love? Why did my heart have to ignite for **him**?’_

* * *

“Taking Incheon United was the worst decision you could have made. It’s not about national pride, Jinki. It’s about winning the game,” Minho said as he sat on the couch in the dormitory’s lounge, posture leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs and hands holding onto one of the controllers. Jinki, Minho, and Taemin had spent the past hour playing FIFA 15 on the Wii in turns, and Taemin was currently slumped in the corner of the couch checking his phone while Jinki and Minho decided on their teams for another match.

“Minho, I don’t really care, to be honest,” Jinki commented in an indifferent tone and picked up his soda from the floor to take a sip.

Taemin’s cheek rested against the couch, legs propped up, toes digging into Minho’s thigh as he browsed through his Instagram, a smile flashing over his face when he saw that Jonghyun had uploaded a photo. It showed three pairs of shoes next to each other in front of a door, two pairs of smaller cute boots in red and yellow and a pair of bigger black ones which Taemin knew immediately were Jonghyun’s. _‘Spending time with the people I love the most._ ❤ _#familytime #bestmom #bestsister #myfamily #iloveyouthemost’_ , read the caption.

_‘People I love the most’._

When Taemin liked the photo and commented with a simple _‘Have fun! :)_ ’ underneath it, he couldn’t help that tiny dark spot in his brain growing bigger again, gnawing at him and telling him how unfair it was that there were people in this world Jonghyun loved so unconditionally while Taemin didn’t seem to be good enough to be worthy of the other’s love. He imagined how nice it would be to see Jonghyun post a photo of the two of them on his Instagram instead, using hashtags like _#bestboyfriend #iloveyou #imgladifoundyou_. He had always hated it when girlfriends had uploaded couple photos to their Instagram account and had tagged him after long, cringeworthy declarations of love in the descriptions, but now he wished for nothing more than to be tagged in one of Jonghyun’s photos and find a short and quick # _ilu_ used as a hashtag.

Taemin had only been tagged once in Jonghyun’s photos: just his hand, blurry in the background, peeking out from behind a pile of the other’s books, his wrist still bandaged from the accident at the basketball court. The title had been a simple: # _studying_.

“If you want to stand any chance, you either choose FC Bayern Munich, FC Barcelona, or Real Madrid. They’ve got the best stats in the game,” Minho continued to ramble while neither Taemin nor Jinki paid him any attention.

There was a study group in the other corner of the room, making Taemin feel bad about his own studies when he occasionally cast a glance to see if they were still hunched over their books and learning, seemingly unfazed by the occasional outbursts that overcame Minho whenever he shot a goal or Jinki’s players broke through his defense. A study group might help him to get his act together, but Taemin couldn’t really be bothered to hit up any of his fellow students who had failed the exams as well. His studies seemed so unimportant compared to his feelings not being reciprocated.

It was a far cry from what he had expected his life in Seoul to be like. His future plans had looked different back home. Originally, he had wanted to attend university together with Jongin, pass all his exams with flying colors, get his degree, land a job at a top company, and move into a cool apartment in Seoul to settle down with someone and eventually marry. But nothing had gone according to his plans and the pessimist in Taemin doubted that this would change in the near future. Jongin was hours away, Taemin had already failed two exams in the first semester, with no idea what the upcoming ones would look like, and he was farther away from getting married than he had ever been in his life.

Taemin clicked on his settings to see what Jonghyun had recently liked, the smile plastered on his face at the puppy posts fading away when a bunch of guys popped up in the mix. None of them were celebrities, just random men Taemin didn’t know and hadn’t seen in Jonghyun’s _‘likes’_ before. Feeling his chest clench uncomfortably, he clicked on the profiles of each one in turn: _**@seoulcityboy @kim_jungwoo_ @yang_mingi_x_x @traveljunkie0919**_ and ** _@_kimwoojin_88_** _,_ all guys in their mid to late twenties who looked fit and charming and posed for photos like they enjoyed getting attention from strangers on the internet.

Taemin wondered if Jonghyun knew them in real life or had stumbled upon them while browsing the Explore page. Had he slid into their DMs? Had they slipped into his? Was Jonghyun really at his mother’s place? Or did he spend his time hanging out with other men when he said that he would be gone for the day? Were there really only 53 on the list or was Jonghyun at 60 by now?

Taemin’s throat tightened and he suddenly felt nauseous, recalling his conversation with Kibum and how he had claimed that Jonghyun wouldn’t bring anyone home. Maybe he wouldn’t bring anyone home, but what if he went to someone else’s home instead?

An Instagram notification popped up on his screen as he scrolled through the endless amount of half-naked selfies on one of the guy’s profiles. It read: ‘ ** _@jonghyun.948_** _commented: **@ace_lee.taemin** Where are you? :(‘ _which caused the lump in Taemin’s throat to grow bigger, pressing him further into the cushions.

A KakaoTalk notification soon followed. _‘Just got home, but you are not in your room? Have you gone out? Missed u :(‘_

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u._

_Missed u…_

It was all Taemin could focus on. What made Jonghyun think it was okay for him to write something like that? Did he even mean those words? Or was it an empty phrase he tossed at anyone who stood still long enough to hear it?

He was a fool for getting hung up on such words. A fool for clinging to them in the hope that Jonghyun saw more in Taemin than he dared to admit. His thumbs hovered over the screen, Minho yelling next to him as he shot another goal. His voice sounded far away, as if it wasn’t part of Taemin’s world; a low indefinable buzz, like a fly crawling along a window, trying to get outside.

‘ _Lounge. FIFA_ ⚽’ he replied eventually and closed the chat, pushing the phone deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, wanting to forget that it was there – that it existed – eyes darting over to follow Jinki’s and Minho’s soccer match. He leaned down to pick up his Pepsi and didn’t listen as Minho continued to talk about strategies as if he was standing on an actual soccer field, acting like a trainer who yelled at his players.

Taemin didn’t look up when the door opened some time later and he tried to ignore the hand brushing along his nape soon after, gathering all his Saiyajin strength so as not to fall into Frieza’s hands.

“Already home? It’s still early,” Minho commented as one of his players passed the ball to another, eyes fixed on the screen. Taemin didn’t move an inch when Jonghyun sat down on the armrest of the couch and leaned into him.

“It’s past 9pm. My mom wanted to watch that cheesy drama that everyone seems to love these days. So I left before she could start swooning over men half her age,” he said jokingly, his hand – as if it was programmed to do so – reaching out to play with Taemin’s hair, while the younger gave his best performance of _'how to stay unaffected by your flat-mate’s desire for physical contact'_. No matter how hard Taemin tried, the Instagram handles of the guys he had discovered swarmed around in his head, bothering him tremendously. Were they number 54, 55, 56 … or even higher numbers on Jonghyun’s list?

“Wait, _what?_ Past 9pm? When did that happen?”

“Between you winning a game with Real Madrid and one with FC Bayern Munich,” Jinki replied dryly as he tried to steal the ball away from one of Minho’s players.

Taemin stayed silent even as Jonghyun scooted a little closer, fingers wandering from his nape to a spot near his Adam's apple, to rub over the hickey he had left there. Did **@seoulcityboy** run around with a similar hickey on his neck? Was that a way for Jonghyun to mark his litter of obedient puppies?

“My mother made kimchi last week and asked me to bring some along to the dorm. I put it in the fridge. So help yourself,” Jonghyun said, hand gliding from Taemin’s neck down to his shoulder, kneading into his skin. Taemin deliberately ignored him as he sipped on his soda and stared at the TV, not even daring to glance at Jonghyun.

“Tell her a big thank-you,” Jinki said, followed by an: “I love your mom’s kimchi. It’s better than my mom’s,” from Minho.

“I will.”

Jonghyun’s fingers grabbed his chin next, and as hard as Taemin tried to not lift it, the other didn’t leave him much choice, their eyes meeting briefly before Taemin focused on a spot next to Jonghyun’s ear.

“Are you alright?” he was asked, which Taemin answered with a monotone _‘mmh’_ before he turned his head back to the screen. He was too caught up in his thoughts, too busy thinking about Jonghyun’s Instagram activities to say anything. Maybe there was a harmless explanation and Taemin was worried for no reason.

Half an hour passed before the study group finally packed their things together and left the room, at which point Taemin was playing a match against Jinki, his mind too preoccupied with the man to his right to prevent Jinki from shooting a goal. Jonghyun was on his phone, making Taemin wonder if he was liking photos of other guys again, and his fingers pressed the buttons on the controller a little more aggressively in response.

When the game was over and Jinki won 6:2, Taemin handed Minho the controller, took his Pepsi, and got up from the couch.

“You’re leaving?” Minho asked him, his brows creased.

“Yeah, I’m a little tired,” Taemin lied and walked around the couch, halting when a hand found its way around his wrist.

“Aren’t you taking me with you?”

Taemin bit his bottom lip, as he didn’t want to say anything he might regret later, fingers digging into the soft aluminium can in his hand. “Good night.” He disregarded Jonghyun’s question and headed for the door, hearing Minho whistle loudly. “Uh oh - the puppy is angry. What did you do? Forget to give him a special treat today?”

A puppy, that’s all he was.

But puppies had teeth and they could bite, Taemin thought as he opened the lounge door and let it fall shut behind him, not wanting to listen to any potential excuses Jonghyun might have. Taking the steps two at a time, he ran up the stairs to their apartment and kicked off his shoes at the entrance. After locking himself up in his room, he flung himself on his bed and turned on his desk lamp.

_Missed u. Missed u. Missed u._

What nonsense.

Reaching for the book he had borrowed from Jonghyun, he flipped it open to where he had left off, the majority of the pages covered in small sticky notes which marked passages he particularly liked or found himself reflected in. It was scary how he could see himself in a character that was nothing like him and yet felt so similar. Was he a lovesick fool who didn’t know when to stop as well?

The sound of their heavy front door being opened soon reached him, followed by nearing footsteps. He looked over to the door, heart thudding against his ribcage as he watched the handle being pushed down and the door not yielding, a self-satisfied grin playing around his mouth. Maybe he couldn’t lock himself away from Jonghyun emotionally, but a piece of wood could help him at least build some form of physical barrier.

“Taemin-ah, what’s going on? Why is your door locked?” Jonghyun’s voice sounded muffled, but the little unrest in it was still noticeable. Keeping quiet, Taemin turned the page, legs crossed, his head bedded comfortably on his pillow. “Taemin-ah, come on. What’s wrong?” The question was followed by an insistent knocking on his door, but when he didn’t respond to that either, the knocking stopped. “If you are in a bad mood, tell me. What did I do? I wasn’t even home.”

No, he hadn’t been home, his afternoon most likely spent on his back with his legs spread, and the discovery hurt like a fist punch. There was another uncomfortable sting in Taemin’s chest and he tried to focus back on the book, the letters beginning to swim in front of his eyes.

“Taemin, I really can’t deal well with people giving me the silent treatment without even telling me what for. If you have a problem with me – just tell me.”

 _A problem?_ The list of problems he had with Jonghyun seemed to be getting longer with each day, and even if Taemin had wanted to tell the other about every single thing that bothered him, he wouldn’t even know where to start.

“Did Minho tell you some nonsense again while I was away? Whatever he said - it’s most likely either a blatant lie or a big exaggeration. _Honestly_ ,” Taemin heard the other say. “Please, open the door. Don’t be angry at me for something I know nothing about.”

Taemin wavered between saying something and remaining quiet, hands closing the book and putting it back on the desk, his brain presently unable to comprehend written words anyway. He remembered his first-ever girlfriend giving him the silent treatment once for forgetting their 100 days anniversary and how awful he had felt for not knowing why she had stopped talking to him at school. Back then he had sworn himself to never act like that towards someone, but this wasn’t about a stupid anniversary, this was about Jonghyun potentially fucking around.

“Was there a follow up to 53?” he asked straight-out and sat up in his bed.

“What?”

“Was there a 54, 55, 56, and so on?”

“What are you even talking about?” Jonghyun wanted to know.

Taemin pulled his legs toward his chest to hug them. Even if there was a 78 already, Jonghyun could lie and Taemin wouldn’t know. He eventually stood up with a sigh and went over to the door to unlock it, not seeing any benefit in acting like a cheated boyfriend – because there was no boyfriend here to speak of.

“What does friends with benefits mean to you?” he asked after opening the door and peeked outside, to find Jonghyun standing right in front of him, looking confused.

“Mean?”

“By definition, _yeah_ ,” Taemin said, his hand still holding onto the door, to be able to close it at a moment’s notice.

“Friends who have sex but aren’t exclusive?”

Jonghyun’s answer sounded more like a question and Taemin hated him for using the words ‘ _aren’t exclusive,_ ’ because that was what he wanted. He _wanted_ them to be exclusive; wanted them to be something that wasn’t just sex – a concept that seemed foreign to Jonghyun, even though it had been something he had wanted with Kibum. Sometimes Taemin felt like a scapegoat, reaping all the spoiled fruit Kibum had sown. There might be a part of Jonghyun that wanted to treat someone as poorly as Kibum had treated him, and it was Taemin’s luck that he had been the new guy moving into this dormitory.

“Is this why you don’t want to be in a relationship with me? Because you can’t stand monogamy?”

Taemin watched the frown on Jonghyun’s face deepen, the usually curled-up corners of his mouth drooping. “Why do I feel like we are talking about two separate things at the same time?”

“They are all leading to the same result, so –” Taemin shrugged, fingertips pressing into the doorframe he held onto. With a sigh, Jonghyun turned in a circle and ran his hand through his hair.

“Taemin-ah, see? That’s why I wanted to put an end to all of this. The longer this goes on –”

“Then what?” Taemin interrupted him.

Jonghyun took a few steps back into the bathroom and rested against one of the sinks, hands curling around the rim. “Taemin-ah, you would be better off finding a nice girl or a nice boy your age, who treats you well and isn’t such a big pile of garbage like I am,” Jonghyun said as he looked right at him, causing another twinge in Taemin’s chest, uncomfortable and constraining. “I know these feelings and they suck. No one should be going through them – and I don’t want you to experience them.”

“Why are you acting like you are the reincarnation of Diablo?”

Jonghyun chuckled tiredly and pushed himself off the sink to come a little closer again, forefingers rising next to his ears to do the devil’s horns. “Maybe I am,” he joked, but Taemin wasn’t in the mood for humorous banter. The whole situation was no laughing matter.

“Who are these guys on your Instagram?” he asked when he realized he wouldn’t get far in trying to understand the other’s behavior. Jonghyun had called him a book of seven seals, while the other was a library hidden behind a secret door in an enchanted castle built high up on a mountain.

Jonghyun cocked an eyebrow at him. “Guys on my Instagram? I think you have to be more specific.”

“The guys in your likes. _Seoulcityboy_ and Co,” Taemin explained and pressed his lips together before he asked, “Are they hook-ups?”

“Did you stalk my profile?” Taemin couldn’t decide whether Jonghyun was surprised, amused, or appalled by this revelation, his face showing many emotions all at once.

“How is it stalking when we are literally following each other’s accounts and my friends’ likes pop up when I go to the Like page?” Taemin defended himself, not mentioning that he only kept up with Jonghyun’s and Jongin’s activities on Instagram. If Jonghyun had a problem with someone seeing the likes he distributed on a public social media site, then he probably shouldn’t use it.

“Is that the reason why you are angry at me? Because I liked some dudes’ pictures?” Jonghyun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Taemin-ah, I don’t know if you have noticed, but I’m gay. I like men and I like looking at them. It’s something that men who like men do.”

 _I want you to only look at me,_ Taemin thought and licked his lips, blood rushing to his head as he felt like he was being laughed at for even caring about what Jonghyun did in his free time.

“Is this really how you want to act right now?” he tried to stay calm, although anger began to seethe underneath his skin.

“Act like what? Taemin, I just liked photos. That’s all I’ve done,” Jonghyun said. “Do you believe that I’ve met up with those guys to have sex with them?”

Both turned their heads when they heard the front door open to see Minho and Jinki, talking about a late-night snack as they slipped out of their shoes and walked into the kitchen. There was an instant smile on Minho’s lips when he saw them, and Taemin wondered if he knew that they were arguing. But then what else would they be doing, with Jonghyun standing in front of Taemin’s open bedroom door? Usually the door was closed and Taemin lay naked in bed with Jonghyun.

“Fried rice with eggs and kimchi?” Jinki asked Minho as he walked over to the fridge and opened it, taking the other’s attention away from Jonghyun and Taemin.

Taemin’s stance was broken as Jonghyun gave him a little push into his room and walked in behind him, the world around them momentarily turning silent when the door fell into its lock. Without the door separating them, Taemin felt incredibly small – like his younger self, about to get scolded by his parents for not tidying up his room.

“Do you see me commenting on your habit of constantly liking Emma Watson’s photos?” Jonghyun’s voice had lowered to a whisper, as if he wanted to make sure that none of their words could be heard outside of Taemin’s room.

“She’s an actress.”

“And?” Jonghyun replied, and Taemin walked over to his desk to lean against it. “Where is the difference? You think she’s attractive so you like her photos. I thought those guys were attractive so I liked their photos.”

“It’s different,” Taemin argued, no longer sure what they were even quarreling about. Was it the state of their relationship? Jonghyun’s Instagram habits? Or Taemin liking Emma Watson? “She’s an unreachable celebrity living somewhere in England while those guys are random guys who live in Seoul.”

Jonghyun chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “So you are really acting like a jealous boyfriend now?”

Taemin’s ears turned hot beneath Jonghyun’s gaze, questioning eyes drilling into him. Was that what he was? The jealous _wannabe_ boyfriend? Taemin didn’t know what to say, the answer to Jonghyun’s question too obvious.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I slept with other people?” Taemin asked instead, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater. “If I slept with Minho, you wouldn’t care?” He always came back to this question in the hope that Jonghyun’s answer would be different one day.

There seemed to be a delay in Jonghyun’s reaction, his expression changing slightly, but Taemin noticed it right away, having looked at that face far too often in the past few months. “You can do whatever you want, Taemin.”

“That wasn’t my question,” Taemin insisted, fingers fumbling with the seam on his sleeves. “Would you care?”

Jonghyun heaved out a sigh. “Taemin, if you want to sleep with him so badly, just do it. You don’t need my permission for that.”

“I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say that you would care,” Taemin hissed under his breath, not wanting to raise his voice in light of their flat-mates cooking in the kitchen. He could hear them singing the theme song to _‘_[ _Dragon_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=16&v=ycb-etUjCZY&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=%EB%BF%8C%EA%BE%B8%EB%B9%B5)[ _L_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=16&v=ycb-etUjCZY&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=%EB%BF%8C%EA%BE%B8%EB%B9%B5)[ _eague_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=16&v=ycb-etUjCZY&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=%EB%BF%8C%EA%BE%B8%EB%B9%B5)’, the noise of the turned-on exhaust fan so loud that it was clearly audible in Taemin’s room.

“Taemin, whether I care or not care doesn’t change anything.”

Taemin pressed his lips together. “It changes everything.”

Another sigh left Jonghyun’s lips, his chest heaving as he breathed in, seconds passing before he spoke, “Taemin-ah, I really don’t want to have this conversation tonight.”

“Then when do you want to have it? You’re always avoiding it,” he probed, wanting answers – _needing_ answers – before he lost the last remaining pieces of his sanity. When Jonghyun simply stood there and looked at the wall instead of him, Taemin balled his hands into fists, trying to speak his mind as openly as possible. “You know that I’m as stupid as you were with Kibum,” Taemin said and licked his lips. “This might sound dumb to you, but you can do whatever you want and I won’t run away. I will always come back. I –”

“Taemin-ah, don’t,” Jonghyun butted in, using the words Taemin hated hearing so much, his expression resembling that of a wounded animal. “Don’t be as stupid as I was, and don’t waste your precious time on someone like me.”

Taemin swallowed dryly, his throat tight as he said, “Then end it. You know I can’t.”

His heart was about to burst out of his chest when Jonghyun turned back to look at him, his eyes dark and unreadable. “How long is this whole ‘friends with benefits’ nonsense going to continue anyway?” Taemin went on. “Until you get your degree and are gone for good? Do you even know that friends with benefits don’t cuddle all the time, don’t hold hands, don’t share food, and certainly don’t text that they miss the other?” he blustered out with excessive gestures as he listed all the reasons why their arrangement was destined to end them up in hell, his feelings shooting out of his mouth like an erupting volcano. “Sometimes I feel like some sex doll or dildo, and at other times, like your lap dog.”

“I didn’t know you were feeling like this,” Jonghyun responded calmly, presenting a complete contrast to Taemin, who rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Because you only ever hear what you want.”

The silence that followed was so loud that it pounded in Taemin’s head like a demolition hammer.

“I honestly don’t know what to say to this.” Jonghyun’s hands disappeared into the pockets of his jeans as he looked down at the floor.

Had Jonghyun ever been confronted about the way he acted? Had anyone ever sat him down to talk to him in plain terms? Had he ever gone through a situation like this before? How was Taemin supposed to have a conversation about relationships with someone who never had been in one – someone who had spent a good amount of time sucking people off in shabby clubs and had run after someone whose interest in him had only been skin-deep?

Taemin suddenly felt like he was talking to a kid, who had no idea how the world or the people living in it truly worked. Jonghyun looked small; fragile, almost, reminding Taemin of the night he had come into the other’s room to hold him close while he cried. How many onion layers did he have to peel away before he would finally understand why Jonghyun acted the way he did?

“I’m going to bed now,” Taemin said, when it didn’t seem like Jonghyun was ready to give him something to work with. “You know where the door is. Please close it on your way out.”

Taemin hated himself for being so harsh, but he was overwhelmed by feelings of injustice; of the whole world being against him. Maybe a night apart would help to clear the air, _maybe_ a night apart would help Jonghyun make up his mind, _maybe_ a night apart would help them get back to using the same street instead of moving in opposite directions.

Jonghyun nodded, not even trying to protest, wishing Taemin a “Good night” before he left. Taemin’s room had never seemed so big before, 6m² feeling like 100 without Jonghyun in it. His head ached as he sat back down on his bed, his mind filled with a cluster of disconnected thoughts, ears listening to the sound of Jonghyun turning on the light in his room.

Taemin couldn’t sleep that night, waiting for the other to come around and snuggle up behind him, but Jonghyun stayed in his own room, and Taemin had to settle for turning onto his side and staring at the wall separating them. At 2am he received a text, but all it said was ‘ _I’m sorry’_. It didn’t ask Taemin if it was okay to come over and didn’t explain the other’s feelings. A simple ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ was all he got, the text a stark contrast when paired up with the previous one, which had ended with a ‘ _Missed u_ ’.

How quickly a simple ‘ _Missed u_ ’ could change to an ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’. Taemin didn’t know what to do with another ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’, the words having lost all their meaning. He wanted to see actions, not read empty phrases.

At 3am another message followed, Taemin having already given up the hope of finding any sleep at all, thumb unlocking the screen when his phone lit up. _‘I’ve never seen you as a sex doll or a lap dog. I just want you to know that.’_

Taemin didn’t reply to either of Jonghyun’s texts, just looked at them and mulled them over in his head before he opened his Jonghyun picture folder with a sigh. Sometimes he had the urge to delete every single file in it, mere reason keeping him from doing it, because he knew that their disappearance would break his heart.

As he stared at a cute selfie Jonghyun had sent during his shift at the library, he received another text: _‘I don’t like arguing with people. It’s all my parents ever did.’_

It was probably the most vulnerable information Jonghyun had ever shared with him, and Taemin breathed in deeply, staring at the words for a long time, wondering how much of Jonghyun’s behavior was deeply rooted in his childhood. He remembered the other telling him during a computer game night that the first few years of one’s childhood were the most defining ones, and maybe Jonghyun had been trying to tell him something with that and Taemin hadn’t paid enough attention, too busy sorting out his own thoughts. He waited for a follow-up text, but his phone didn’t blink up again, staying silent for the remainder of the night.

Pulling a sweatshirt over his head in the morning, Taemin tugged its hood deep into his face before he left the room to drag his feet to the toilet, not daring to look into the mirror when he washed his hands afterward, too afraid a zombie might stare back at him with ashy skin, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles underneath the lower lash line.

When he went to eat breakfast, he found Minho at the kitchen table already, a pile of books and his laptop sitting in front of him.

“Good morning,” Minho greeted him enthusiastically. Taemin felt hungover despite not having drunk any alcohol the night before, the other’s voice echoing painfully in his head.

“ _Mo’ning_ ,” he mumbled on his way to the coffee machine, the pot as empty as his head felt. With a sigh he changed the filter and filled up the water tank before turning the machine on, the kitchen soon filled with the sounds of brewing coffee.

“Rough night?” Minho asked as Taemin grabbed his chocolate cereal from the cupboard and filled a bowl with it, craving tooth-achingly sweet comfort food to forget the past few hours that he had spent overthinking his life. While looking for milk in the fridge, he also pulled out a plastic container of chicken fingers, which he had bought at a convenience store the day before but had forgotten to eat after Minho and Jinki had invited him to hang out.

Finding nothing repulsive about the mix of chocolate and chicken, he brought both over to the kitchen table, Minho shaking his head with a grin. “I guess your food choices are answer enough,” he said when Taemin didn’t reply to his question, waiting for the coffee to be finished instead. “Want to talk about it?”

Taemin shook his head. “I want to eat.”

Eating and drinking coffee _did_ help him to regain some strength, the mix of greasy chicken, sweet chocolate cereal, and caffeine letting him slowly overcome his lack of sleep and form some coherent thoughts.

“Term paper?” he managed to ask after devouring the third chicken finger, rubbing the grease from his hands off on his sweatpants.

“ _Mmh_ \- Mao, Stalin and the Korean War: Trilateral Communist Relations in the 1950s,” Minho answered, taking a sip from his smoothie, which looked like it was filled with red fruits instead of green vegetables for once, a pink liquid dripping into his mouth.

“Sounds boring,” Taemin concluded, not in the right state of mind to fathom _anything_ , let alone history.

Minho cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled around the rim of his tumbler. “Not really. I think history is the most interesting subject there is, because we can learn so much from the past, so we won’t make the same mistakes in the future,” he explained after putting the bottle back down.

Taemin hummed while slurping some cereal, the sweetened milk helping his blood sugar levels rise. He watched Minho work on his paper in silence, one hand holding the spoon while the other held onto a chicken finger.

His shoulders tensed when he heard a bedroom door open, his heartbeat quickening, and Jonghyun’s voice saying “Good morning” soon tickled his ears.

“And here we have someone else who looks like he didn’t get much sleep,” Minho chirped and reached for his phone.

 _At least, not until 3am,_ Taemin wanted to say, casting a quick glance at his flat-mate, whose face, similar to his own, was hidden underneath a hood. Considering that they had come out of different rooms, it was probably easy for Minho to add one and one together and determine that the reason for their lack of sleep wasn’t the result of a night spent in several rounds of sex.

“Oh, another match,” Minho said out of nowhere, and Taemin looked up from his cereal to see what the other was doing.

“Match?” he asked and scooted a little closer to the table as Jonghyun came over with a cup of coffee and squeezed himself between the chair and the wall to sit down next to him. His hands held onto the coffee cup instead of brushing along Taemin’s nape like they usually did.

“Tinder,” Minho mentioned casually as he stared down at his phone, holding it in both hands. “Hot?” He turned his phone towards Taemin and the younger took a look at it, the screen showing a pretty girl with long black hair, posed cutely with a coffee in her hand. _Haneul, 22 years old, 2km away. Likes coffee, dancing, and cats._

Taemin shrugged. “Looks cute, I guess,” he said and slurped the sweetened milk from the bottom of the bowl before placing it down on the table and wiping his mouth with the cuff of his sweatshirt.

“ _Looks cute, I guess_ ,” Minho parroted with a grin and took his phone back. “She’s a solid 8.”

Jonghyun sat next to them and silently sipped his coffee, while Taemin wondered whether the other had spent the night thinking about their one-sided conversation as well. A part of him felt bad for having argued with Jonghyun, but he had been at the end of his tether, his feelings having gotten the better of him once again.

“What about him?”

Minho’s phone was pushed into Taemin’s face and the younger automatically leaned back to take a proper look. Minho had opened Grindr, the screen displaying a guy posed half-naked in front of a mirror, face disappearing behind his phone's flash and sweatpants sitting low on his hips. There were more abs than Taemin could count, the v-line leading to his dick so sharp that Taemin feared he would cut himself if he tried to touch it. _Ryong, 26, 15km away. Just looking for hook-ups!_

“There is no face,” Taemin pointed out with a frown and reached for the plastic container with his last remaining chicken fingers.

“So the face is more important than the body?” Minho followed up with an acknowledging hum, Taemin shrugging a little helplessly in response.

“I guess,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to reply, and grabbed another chicken finger.

“What is this about?” Jonghyun tuned into the conversation, his voice hoarse and tired-sounding. Taemin fought the urge to inch closer and nestle his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder, to wrap his arms around the other and snuggle up against him.

“Taemin claims he doesn’t have a type, but I don’t believe him,” Minho explained quickly, swiping through a few profiles before he stopped at one and held it towards Taemin once more. It was a nerdy-looking guy with a lanky build similar to Taemin’s; even their age was the same.

He shook his head with a grimace. “No.”

“Interesting,” Minho said, as if he had gathered important information in his field study, and immediately continued his research.

“How many dating apps have you installed on your phone?” Taemin wanted to know as he stuffed himself with the last piece of chicken, fingers disappearing into his mouth as he licked them clean.

“I don’t know - a few. Grindr is fun if you are looking for straight-up sex, Tinder can be nice if you want to meet someone for a cup of coffee that might lead to some sex. Different apps cater to different audiences.”

“And you are all of the audiences?” Jonghyun butted in.

Taemin envied the coffee cup in the other’s hands, wishing for them to hold onto him instead. He had been honest when he said that he would always come back, no matter how stupid it sounded. They had spent one night apart and Taemin was drained and exhausted, the plug pulled out of the socket too soon, his batteries running low, barely charged.

“You know me,” Minho grinned. “I’m a people person.”

Neither Jonghyun nor Taemin gave him any reaction, so Minho went back to browsing the app, an appreciative hum soon leaving his mouth. “Oh, _definitely_ gonna slide into his DMs.”

The guy in the photo looked good: sharp features, nice body, a pun listed in his profile description. When Jonghyun leaned closer to take a look as well, Taemin froze in his seat, fingers digging into his thigh. He only needed to turn his head and move a little forward and his lips would be able to kiss Jonghyun’s cheek.

“Won’t work,” Jonghyun said without giving any context, bringing a frown to Minho’s face.

“Won’t work?”

“His name is Jaebong, if I remember correctly. You won’t be getting more than a handjob out of him.”

Taemin’s throat tightened. The world was a small one, and the queer community in Seoul seemed to be even smaller. At least Jonghyun appeared to really remember all the people he’d had sex with.

“Really?” Minho took the phone back and scrolled through the profile. “Damn - a top; he wrote it in the last line. That’s something that should be stated in the first,” he sighed.

“You’re missing out on a lot with your restricted pool of potential hook-ups,” Jonghyun said, making Taemin suddenly uneasy.

He didn’t want to listen to Jonghyun’s excessive hook-up experiences again, slowly having heard enough of them, wishing he could go back and erase every conversation they’d ever had about it. He had been better off not knowing anything, living his life in blissful ignorance. Living in ignorance would have spared him the pain of comparing himself to faceless bodies and an uncountable number of dicks. He might have told himself that he didn’t care, but he had been lying to protect himself. Taemin liked Jonghyun, liked him a lot - _too much_ \- so how was it possible for him not to be jealous of all the guys who had been in Jonghyun’s life before him? All the guys who had seen Jonghyun naked, all the ones who had given him an orgasm? The one thing Taemin held onto was the thought that most likely none of them had made Jonghyun laugh and none of them had comforted him when he had been down.

“Bottoming isn’t for me. Tried it once and nope, sorry - not again,” Minho put his phone down and stretched in his seat, as Taemin wondered who the guy was that Minho had bottomed for.

“The first time is always weird and uncomfortable,” Jonghyun said before taking another sip of his coffee.

Taemin thought about his first time being sprawled out underneath Jonghyun. It hadn’t been weird and only a little uncomfortable in the beginning, the other having successfully distracted him from having fingers up his butt with one of the best blowjobs he had ever received. Taemin had come once already before Jonghyun’s dick had even come near his ass.

“Despite that,” Jonghyun went on, “have you never heard of versatile guys being the better tops?”

Minho snorted and straightened up. “Had no complaints so far, so I think I’m good,” he replied and got up. “No need to know what it feels to have something up my butt to give someone a good pounding.”

“Fragile masculinity is such a fascinating thing,” Jonghyun commented in a low voice, but loud enough for Minho to hear, who turned around and gave a small laugh.

“Not everything in this world is about masculinity or the lack of it, Jonghyun,” he gave to consider and walked over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. “Everyone has their preferences; you should know that best.”

Taemin thought that this comment might run deeper than the discussion they were having about masculinity, his fingers itching to sneak over to Jonghyun’s thigh and touch it. He wanted to run his hands over Jonghyun’s chest and give him a peck on the nose, wanted to go back to the beginning and start all over again.

Placing the water bottle on the table, Minho excused himself and left for the toilet, leaving Taemin feeling lost without the safety cushion of the other’s presence between him and Jonghyun. It had been easy to focus on something else while their flat-mate was with them, but with Minho leaving the kitchen, what remained were Jonghyun, Taemin, and their conversation from last night.

“Are you alright?”

Taemin tensed at Jonghyun’s gentle address, his hand reaching for his own coffee cup to hold onto something. He nodded in response and took a sip, the heat warming him from inside. “I think. Didn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Jonghyun sighed and turned around on his chair to pull up his knees and place his feet on the edge of Taemin’s chair.

Taemin looked down at the other’s small toes first before glancing at his face. Jonghyun looked how Taemin felt: eyes small and red, skin unnaturally pale. His big toe prodded into Taemin’s thigh, and when Taemin looked down at the other’s feet again, he began to smile.

“I’m sorry,” Taemin heard Jonghyun say, and he licked his lips before pressing them together and giving a short nod.

“I know.”

Another toe-nudge. “Are we okay?”

 _Were they okay?_ Probably not - they hadn’t been for a long time, but Taemin didn’t have the strength to continue their seemingly never-ending discussion from last night so early in the morning, therefore he forced himself to a smile and nodded once more before the sound of the toilet flushing washed over to them.

* * *

_‘Bulgogi and beer tonight?’_

_‘We haven’t seen each other in three weeks, man!’_

Taemin glanced at the flashed-up display of his phone, showing messages from one of his fellow students, and then back at his computer screen again. Two days had passed since Taemin and Jonghyun’s latest argument, and Taemin sat in his room, trying to escape the real world for a while. It was relaxation, a way to turn his brain onto standby, to forget all his worries and troubles and focus on one thing – his laptop screen.

Left hand using the mouse and his right hand down in his sweats. He wasn’t masturbating, just touching himself lightly while scrolling through a manga. With his dick not even being half-hard it was more like playtime, distraction, boredom – the same way a person twirled a strand of hair around their finger or tipped their pencil against the table while looking at a blackboard in school.

The manga wasn’t particularly good – _hentai_ – the fucked-up kind. For some reason, Taemin had an obscure obsession with anything that went beyond the norm, stuff he wouldn’t be into at all in real life but was immensely fascinated by in drawn form. His Japanese wasn’t the best, despite having learned it for several years in school, but it was good enough for the purpose of reading hentai - not that a lot of vocabulary was usually involved in the genre - and sometimes he was lucky enough to find manga with Korean translations.

He was in the middle of slightly tilting his head to the side to take a look at a woman with humongous breasts getting pleasured by something that looked suspiciously like a bee, octopus, and eagle hybrid when the door to his room suddenly opened. Startled, his first reaction was to shut his laptop and pull the hand out of his pants, his heartbeat slowing down when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Caught you red-handed, huh?”

A hand dropped on his shoulder, kneading gently into it, and Taemin relaxed instantly, those strong hands working like magic on him.

“Why don’t you ever knock?” he huffed, not even trying to come at Jonghyun when the other leaned forward to open Taemin’s laptop again, the manga he had been looking at popping back up on the screen.

“Because then I wouldn’t ever catch you reading first-class world literature. What’s that? Some modern Hokusai? People still draw tentacle porn? Can’t they come up with something new?” Jonghyun asked as he checked the page, seemingly neither shocked nor even slightly disturbed by what was shown in black lines on a white background.

It was something Taemin admired a lot about the other: his talent for accepting people the way they were. Maybe he didn’t understand what fascination that genre held for Taemin, but he accepted it regardless. Jonghyun had once told him that he lived by the saying ‘acceptance over understanding,’ and Taemin liked the sentiment behind these words. As long as one didn’t harm anyone, people should be allowed to live how they want.

“As long as there is hentai there will be tentacles,” Taemin said matter-of-factly and watched as Jonghyun used the mouse to skip to the next page, an appreciative hum leaving his lips.

“Props to that heroine, though. That massive tentacle would rip any real-life anus apart. I wonder if there is a market for stuff like that. Dildos shaped like tentacles and so on. There must be, right?”

“Yeah, there actually is,” Taemin answered without thinking twice about it, Jonghyun arching his eyebrow in return.

“How do you know? Did you check?” The grin on Jonghyun’s lips was impish, almost challenging.

Taemin shrugged. “If you visit websites like this one, you stumble upon such things sooner or later. There are ads everywhere. Dragon tongues, tentacles - there is even an alien-shaped dick that releases eggs.”

Taemin had never questioned any of his findings, knowing all too well how fucked-up humankind was. No matter how odd the kink might be, there were always people out there who were into it.

“ _Alien eggs?_ ” Jonghyun’s eyes widened in surprise. “For people who always wanted to be abducted and impregnated by an alien?” he wanted to know, his voice a little higher now, as if he really couldn’t believe his ears.

With a nod, Taemin grabbed the mouse from Jonghyun’s hand and opened another tab to go onto Youtube, simply typing the words – ‘ _alien’_ – _‘egg’_ – _‘dildo’_ – into the search bar in Roman letters, hundreds of videos popping up right away. “There you go,” he said casually and scrolled down the site, the thumbnails featuring plenty of foreigners who showed off the newest addition to their sex toy collection.

Jonghyun shook his head in disbelief. “This is insane. There really seems to be a niche market for stuff like that. How did I not know about that?”

“Probably because you watch vanilla porn,” Taemin grinned, laughing when Jonghyun nudged his shoulder. Jonghyun stared wordlessly at the screen for some time, and Taemin began to wonder why the other had come into his room in the first place. Originally, he probably hadn’t intended to talk about ‘ _Oviopostors_ ’ with Taemin.

“Why are you here?” he probed finally. Jonghyun blinked, then placed his hand onto Taemin’s so he could close the tab, and the manga Taemin had been reading popped up again.

“I actually came around to ask if you wanted to watch a movie tonight, but I guess you have other plans.” Jonghyun clucked his tongue, clicking through the pages, Taemin’s ears turning warmer the more explicit the scenes displayed on the screen got.

Their talk two nights ago hadn’t given Taemin any new insights and Jonghyun seemed to be pretending like it hadn’t taken place at all, conflicting feelings occupying Taemin’s mind. One side of him wanted to join Jonghyun in his oblivion and act like they hadn’t spent the past few weeks constantly arguing over their relationship with each other - or more like Taemin arguing about it and Jonghyun keeping silent, distracting Taemin, or taking flight whenever Taemin tried to approach the matter head-on. But what prevailed was the other side - the far bigger one - which haunted him with uncertainty and wanted Jonghyun to finally make up his mind and tell Taemin what he thought their arrangement would look like in the future. He couldn’t be blind to what their relationship was slowly turning into. There were too many feelings involved which were hard to overlook.

“What movie?” Taemin straightened up, the vinyl of the swivel chair beneath his butt making a squeaking sound as he moved.

“‘ _How to Train Your Dragon_ ’. I remembered that you said you hadn't seen it yet, and I’m in the mood for something cute after that weird indie movie we watched not too long ago. But I guess a cute dragon can’t compete with that monster hybrid here,” Jonghyun explained before he took a step back, hands disappearing into the front pocket of his white hoodie, eyes taking a first real look at Taemin.

Over the past two days, Jonghyun had rarely looked at him directly, as if he was afraid that Taemin would start yet another discussion with him. Maybe Jonghyun being in his room right now was a sign of him wanting to get closer again, to soothe the waves; a sign of him wanting to share wine and bread with Taemin, like the twelve Apostles did with Jesus. One just had to cross out the wine and bread and exchange it for bed and body.

“Sounds good, I’m in.” Taemin ignored the latter part of Jonghyun’s comment, grasping every opportunity to spend time with the other - be it for a walk in the park, lunch, or for a kids’ movie. Because Jonghyun had slept in his own room the past few nights, Taemin was ready to pick up any bread crumb that was thrown his way, his body and mind exhausted and starving, craving physical contact. Jonghyun was Taemin’s Mjölnir and Kryptonite at the same time, one making him more powerful and the other weakening him.

“Cool,” was the short reply he received. Taemin expected Jonghyun to leave after they had agreed upon watching a movie later, but his flat-mate continued to stand next to him in the small space between his bed and his chair, hands hidden in his hoodie, body bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Is there anything else?” he asked when Jonghyun made no move to leave.

“No, actually; no, there isn't,” Jonghyun admitted, but instead of turning around and heading for the door, he sat down on Taemin’s bed and grabbed his pillow, squishing it against his chest.

“I always thought you watched animated hentai - like videos? But you look at manga to get off?”

Taemin snorted at the honest curiosity in Jonghyun’s voice and leaned forward to open a new tab.

“Are you _that_ interested in what I’m getting off to?” he teased, typing in the url of his favorite website for hentai videos. He missed the lightness of their conversations, and if talking about hentai was able to revive these moments, even if only for a few minutes, Taemin needed to seize the opportunity.

“I am just curious, that’s all. I’ve never really understood the fascination with hentai, but maybe I watched the wrong ones,” Jonghyun shrugged.

“So you’ve watched some before?”

“Of course. I too was a 16-year-old teenager once, but there were too many videos with disturbing themes - so I stuck to regular porn.”

Acknowledging Jonghyun’s comment with a mere nod, Taemin pressed ‘enter’ and waited for the gates of hentai hell to open up for them, a bright window popping up on the screen, asking Taemin if he was already 18.

“There are a lot of disturbing ones, that’s right. But these sites have a very advanced filter system for that. You can either search for specific tags or you can exclude tags from your search. It’s quite handy, really.” Taemin tried to sound convincing.

“You sound like you are trying to convince me how great hentai is.”

Taemin chuckled softly. “It’s certainly better than its reputation,” he claimed. “Anyway, it really depends on my mood - whether I want to read or watch something. Manga have very developed storylines sometimes, so that’s quite nice.”

“As if you read hentai for the story,” Jonghyun snorted and skidded closer to the wall to lean against it.

“Actually I do – _occasionally_.” Taemin paused for a second before he cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to watch my all-time favorite hentai with me?”

Taemin had never watched any kind of porn, let alone hentai, together with anyone before - not even with Jongin - but for some reason, sharing his guilty pleasure with Jonghyun excited him.

“How can I say no to you?”

 _You’ve said it to me so many times already,_ Taemin thought bitterly, but smiled at Jonghyun before he turned back to his laptop and typed in the title of his favorite series in the search bar. After the page had loaded he turned the laptop a little to the right so Jonghyun could take a better look at the screen.

“What is it about?”

“It’s set in an alternate universe in which monsters have enslaved humanity. There is a group of men and women who try to fight the monster regime and after ten episodes they are finally successful,” Taemin gave a quick summary while gesturing around.

“What makes it into a hentai? Is the rebels’ weapon of choice their genitals or what?”

The heat from Taemin’s cheeks wandered up to his ears. “Well, not exactly, but - there is a lot of sex. Some humans are thrown into brothels to serve as sex slaves and the monsters are trying to break their will through sex,” he tried to explain, realizing how stupid the plot sounded if voiced out loud.

Jonghyun grimaced. “So they rape them? Taemin, that’s disturbing.”

“It’s animated. It’s not real,” Taemin countered, the heat reaching the tips of his ears. He didn't want Jonghyun to think of him as some fucked-up weirdo.

“Can we watch something that is at least consensual? Like, girl and monster fall in love and are both of legal age before they engage in sexual activities?”

Taemin bit his lip to suppress a laugh, eyeing Jonghyun from the side, who looked at him hopefully, still hugging the pillow tightly and resting his chin on it. He looked cute sitting on the mattress like that, making Taemin realize how much he had missed seeing the other occupying his space.

“I wasn’t aware that your moral compass is so strong.”

“Animated or not - some sick ideas shouldn’t be supported. By watching content like that, you are feeding into a market that produces that sort of thing,” Jonghyun said and pointed at the cover of Taemin's favorite hentai, displayed on his laptop screen.

Initially, Taemin had hoped for some nice bonding time with Jonghyun over animated porn, had hoped that talking about something so absurd would make them both laugh, but for some reason his mood had dropped within seconds, a long sigh leaving his lips as he closed the tab with the video, feeling discouraged. He tried to think of a hentai he had watched that wouldn’t disturb Jonghyun, but only a short list of videos popped up in front of his inner eye.

“Do you have something to offer with demons or something? Like, devil and witches? Sex rituals?”

This comment made Taemin look up and he cocked his head, eyeing Jonghyun as the other innocently raised his hands.

“That’s something I could imagine to be hot,” he justified.

Taemin tried to think of a video that might fit the description. It took a moment before a sudden flash of genius overcame him. “How about a succubus and incubus one? There is a clan of them and they feed on the sexual energy of people they pick up at bars.”

“Technically, that’s not consensual either,” Jonghyun raised his pointer finger. “But I let it pass because we are talking about mythical creatures and dreams.”

“It’s a good one. Has a lot of orgies in it,” Taemin mentioned casually as he looked for the title of the video online.

Jonghyun snickered. “ _Orgies?_ Taemin-ah, don’t tell me you would be into that? What kinky sides of you am I discovering today?”

“Only in video format. I don’t think I could handle being with more than one person at a time.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want to share you anyway,” Jonghyun said, not realizing that this particular comment was one of the worst he could have made, sending Taemin tumbling down a hill, longing for something the other wasn’t willing to give him.

“Can you please stop saying stuff you don’t mean?” he heaved out as he looked at his laptop, mood turning sour. When would Jonghyun finally understand that saying these things deepened the pain in Taemin’s chest, because it intensified the longing for something more than _just_ sex?

Taemin straightened up when he finally found the video he had been looking for, an incubus and a succubus posing next to each other on the cover. The anime was harmless compared to the stuff he was usually into, but the animations were nice and the sex scenes well-done, so he didn’t mind taking a look at it again.

“What are you talking about? I don’t like to share when it comes to sex. Tried a threesome once and it wasn’t for me. Never understood the thrill. It’s nice in my head but not in reality.” Jonghyun shrugged and then tugged at Taemin’s sweater, the younger not really wanting to pay attention to him, because he knew that Jonghyun was probably looking at him again with those pouty lips that made it harder for him to resist anything he said.

So a threesome was something the other had experienced as well. Was there anything left that he hadn’t done yet? Anything that would still be new and surprising? Taemin was frustrated as his brain automatically started showing a movie of Jonghyun having sex with two faceless guys, frustration quickly turning into resentment the longer he thought about it. He ignored the tugging on his sweater and clicked on the video to let it buffer while trying to stop the movie playing in his head.

“The plot for the first episode is very plain,” he began, to distract himself. “There is some office worker who is a total loser and can’t get laid, and one night he goes to a bar where an incubus called Sachael and a succubus called Raziel pick him up, disguised as this super-hot couple. The dude takes them both home, flattered that they’ve approached him, and you can imagine the rest. The two of them give the dude the time of his life,” he explained with excessive gestures, desperately trying to burn the movie clip still running in his head, showing Jonghyun sandwiched between two guys. The longer the movie went on, the more he wanted the other to be gone, the vase built of their relationship covered in cracks that grew larger.

“Sounds like fun,” Jonghyun said and slid to the edge of the bed, following the opening scene curiously. Taemin didn’t understand how he could always act so cold. The older one had no problem throwing cheesy sentiments around but could hardly handle the consequences of his actions.

“Do you want to watch the whole thing or should we skip to the good parts?” Taemin asked, his hand still on the mouse.

Jonghyun took a closer look at the bottom of the video. “It’s 26 minutes long. I don’t know, is the beginning interesting to watch?”

Taemin didn’t answer him with words and skipped the first ten minutes of the video instead, tuning in when the succubus and the incubus revealed their true identities: small horns growing out of their heads, bat-like wings appearing on their backs, and tails growing from their tailbones; the succubus wearing a purple harness while the incubus wore nothing but a black choker around his neck.

“Why are anime titties and dicks always so huge?” Jonghyun quipped, his chin propped up on his hand, eyes glued to the screen.

Taemin hiked his shoulders. “Because it’s anime and everything is exaggerated?”

The office worker was already so gone that he wasn’t even shocked by the true identities of his hookups, his body quivering and begging to be touched again, no matter by whom, as he lay sprawled out naked on his bed, sweating and horny. Had Jonghyun looked like this as well?

“Do you like it?”

His thoughts interrupted, Taemin turned his head towards Jonghyun, who was looking at him curiously, his cheek nestled against the palm of his hand.

“You know that I like big boobs.”

“What about big dicks?”

Taemin sighed, his eyes going back to the screen, watching the succubus sit on the man’s face while the incubus had his fingers deep in the man’s ass. He didn’t bother answering, but felt his neck heat up when he realized that the other was still staring at him. Being looked at this intensely while watching porn seemed wrong.

“I thought you wanted to watch the video?” he murmured, swallowing hard when the man in the video moaned loudly and arched his back after the incubus pushed inside of him for the first time, his voice muffled because of the pussy covering his mouth. Taemin had to admit that he envied that office man a little bit, because he probably would have taken the two demons home as well.

“I prefer to watch your reaction to it,” Jonghyun announced with a frisky grin.

Taemin rolled his eyes at the screen. He had been in such a good mood until a few minutes ago, but now he felt bitter and unloved, even a little ridiculed. But then, how could anyone take someone who watched drawn naked people in motion for a fun time seriously?

When Taemin didn’t say anything, Jonghyun tilted his head and reached forward to place his hands on Taemin’s thighs, pulling him closer on his swivel chair.

“What’s bugging you?”

Taemin wanted to answer with _‘You’_ but decided against it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the screen and his mouth shut, getting distracted when Jonghyun’s hand suddenly brushed over his crotch.

“Do you want me to suck you off while you continue watching?” Jonghyun’s voice was so sultry that under normal circumstances Taemin would have melted like butter in his hands, but now he shook his head, placing his hand above Jonghyun’s, which had begun to rub him between the legs.

He heard the vase crack in his head; another fine tear.

When would Jonghyun finally understand that he wanted more than sex? When would he finally understand that Taemin wasn’t some hook-up he had brought home after a night out, who would disappear in the morning, but someone who had genuine feelings for him?

“Look, I still have things to do,” Taemin said and tried to stay as composed as possible. “If you decide that you want to watch this after all, I can send you the link to the video,” he continued and pulled Jonghyun’s hand away from his crotch, visible surprise crossing the other’s features.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Jonghyun asked and leaned back.

_Nothing has been right for a long time._

“Everything is peachy,” Taemin lied and forced himself to smile, giving Jonghyun a thumbs up as he turned back to the laptop and closed the tab with the video. “I remembered that I have some university work to do,” he added and opened a PDF file on his desktop, containing an article on AI programming, to sprinkle some truth onto his fake story.

Taemin had not wasted a single moment thinking about any university-related matters ever since he had left the building after his last exam, and he was still ignoring the exams he had to retake because his mind had been too preoccupied with Jonghyun. However, the appearance of a PDF file on his screen seemed to work, as Jonghyun only took a quick glance at it before he decided that it wasn’t anything he had any interest in.

“Well, okay then –” Jonghyun sighed and got up from the bed. “I don’t want to distract you from work. But we are still watching ‘ _How to Train Your Dragon_ ’ together later, right?” he asked on his way to the door, Taemin pretending to be too busy to pay him more attention than necessary.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe. If I get everything done by tonight,” he answered, knowing that, when it came down to it, he would make up some kind of excuse.

He was so tired of the other treating him like some plaything, something one pulled out of the very back of a closet when they had already gone through all the other options available. It was unsatisfying and left Taemin feeling like he was in a state of limbo - not going forward and not going backward - floating around at the edge of hell, prohibited to enter heaven. He longed for Jonghyun, craved for him with every fiber of his body, but nothing he did seemed to be good enough for the other. He didn’t even seem to register how unfairly he treated Taemin.

Taemin had hoped that pouring his heart out might make things clearer for Jonghyun, but nothing had changed, _absolutely nothing_. Jonghyun liked fooling around with him, but nothing else. Maybe Taemin had been wrong all along; maybe their arrangement really ran only skin-deep, and everything else - the kisses, the hand-holding, the words - had been an illusion, something Jonghyun did with everyone and held no profound meaning.

“Then see you later, maybe,” was the response he received in return. Seconds later, Jonghyun was gone and Taemin sank deeper into his swivel chair, rubbing his face in annoyance. Jonghyun never even tried to question anything he said, accepting everything without putting up a fight - as if he really didn’t care.

Taemin had wanted to spend a peaceful afternoon with himself and some lewd hentai, but instead frustration rose in his gut again, and he didn’t know what to do. He had tried everything he could possibly think of, but nothing had worked. Every person would have advised him to move on and look for someone else, a cute boy who wasn’t like Jonghyun or a cute girl – who wasn’t like Jonghyun either. Someone to take his mind off his flat-mate so he would stop lusting over someone who didn’t want the same thing he wanted. He knew that Jonghyun liked him, but that wasn’t enough. Taemin knew that, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

In his sullenness, he grabbed his phone, opened the messages from his classmate that he had ignored earlier, and quickly typed: _‘Sounds great. When and where?’,_ wanting to be out of the dorm and away from his flat-mates.

For the first time since classes were officially over, he met up with some fellow students to hang out. Taemin usually declined their offers to spend time together outside of university because he was always with Jonghyun or waiting for Jonghyun, but this time he couldn’t get out of the dorm fast enough, happy to have a valid excuse to leave the building and not see Jonghyun for a few hours. Meeting people that he didn’t see every day was refreshing.

His classmates were all a bunch of losers who couldn’t get someone to date them to save their lives, but they were funny and nice people, and most importantly operated on the same wavelength as Taemin did. They could discuss everything from video games to computer programming to quantum mechanics, Taemin’s nerd juices running at high speed whenever they were together.

They met up at a Bulgogi restaurant near campus, and when Jonghyun texted him halfway through dinner to ask where he was, one of Taemin’s friends was interested to know if his girlfriend was worried about him. Taemin would have loved to tell him that it was in fact his boyfriend who had texted him, but he didn’t want to lie, so he shook his head while chewing a piece of meat and let his friend know that it had been one of his flat-mates who acted like a mother hen. He muted his phone afterward and put it away without answering Jonghyun.

After dinner they bought beer at a nearby convenience store before the group strolled to one of the boys’ dormitories to have a fun evening together. The dormitory was located on the other side of campus, a place Taemin had visited once before to pick up some notes. It was an older and more run-down building than the one he was living in, the rent cheaper and the apartments smaller, cockroaches running over the hallways after 10pm.

They sat around the guy’s room, Taemin sharing the space on the bed with two other guys, while another one sat on a chair and the remaining three on the floor. Hanging out in such a small room with seven people was a challenge, but for the first time in a long time, Taemin felt good about himself. No one was patronizing him, no one was making fun of him, no one was treating him like a child; everyone in Kyungtae’s room the same age as Taemin was. For once Taemin wasn’t the youngest, and until now he hadn’t realized how different it was to spend time with people who were at the same stage in their lives as he was, who didn’t feel the need to give him constant advice. Taemin laughed a lot during the evening, drank more beer than he should have, and talked more about his sex life than was probably appropriate.

“Want one as well?” Mansoo, next to him, asked, and held a package of cigarettes in his face, Taemin hesitating for a second before he threw all decency out of the window and took one.

His father had been smoking for as long as Taemin could remember, and while his mother - despite all her bickering - accepted that nasty habit of her husband’s, Taemin had been told all his life that she would disown him if she ever found him with a cigarette in his hand. She had been joking, of course, but his mother hated cigarettes with a passion, so Taemin had more or less stayed away from them. Only once had he stolen a few cigarettes from his father’s stash, when he was around 14, to smoke them at the playground with Jongin, the two of them wanting to look cool but almost choking up when they inhaled and the smoke went directly to their lungs. His flat-mates would have probably told him to stay away from that nasty shit, but none of them were there, and the thought of doing something they wouldn’t approve of spurred him on, the rebellious child in him that wanted to spite Jonghyun and the others taking possession of him.

The first drag was awful and he coughed into his fist, to Mansoo’s amusement, whose cigarette stuck casually between his lips, but after the first few puffs he started to see the appeal in it, his head feeling weirdly light.

After the fourth round of beer and the guys around Taemin starting to confess to having very limited sexual experience or none at all, Taemin began to ramble, the scarf he had worn outside bound around his head to keep the hair out of his face and another cigarette in his hand. He wasn’t into smoking by any means, but something about sitting in a round of people who all smoked made it so easy to say _‘Yes’_ to stupid things like that, and there were none of his flat-mates present to tell him to stop or take it slow.

The fragility of youth with its never-ending peer pressure.

“I’ve slept with three people,” he said with a cigarette in his mouth, and for once he wasn’t embarrassed by the number, his chest puffing up proudly when the others began to root for him, gave him high fives and wanted to know all the details. Who could have known that the number three, which had appeared so little to him until now, could be such a huge number in the eyes of someone else? Encouraged by the nonexistent sex lives of his fellow students, Taemin continued to talk. At first he mentioned his girlfriends from high school, even going so far as showing them his ex-girlfriends’ Instagram accounts, something he hadn’t even done in Jonghyun’s presence.

“Holy shit. You’ve slept with her? _Really?_ She’s like a 15 on a scale of 10,” one of them exclaimed as Taemin showed them Yoomi’s profile, the first girl he had been intimate with and one of the most popular girls in his school back then. They still followed each other’s social media accounts despite not having talked to each other in two years. Although they weren’t together anymore, Taemin’s chest puffed out further, as he wanted to let everyone know that he was capable of dating such a pretty girl. He would have done the same with Jonghyun, but he doubted that the reaction of his classmates would be the same.

“Man, can I borrow your face for like a week or something You seem to be a chick magnet,” Doohyun, the one on the chair, commented and nudged Taemin’s pulled-up knees with one hand.

“Yeah! Me too! I’m 19 and still fighting acne. Sucks, really,” Dusung, sitting on the floor, agreed with the other as he touched his cheeks.

Taemin smiled at the compliments, getting lifted up out of his slump, not having realized how his already small self-esteem had suffered from constant rejection in the past few weeks. It was nice to see that there were actually people out there who envied him, not just took pity on him.

“There are so many girls at university. I’m sure you will all find someone,” he tried to cheer them up and raised his beer, clinking cans with Doohyun and Mansoo before he took another sip, his brain nicely foggy, all his worries and problems wrapped up in winter coats and ear muffs, nestling in front of a chimney fire.

“Yah Taemin, are you currently seeing someone?” Dusung asked and pointed at his neck, Taemin’s hand automatically reaching up to touch it. The two hickeys were still there. They had faded in the past few days, but they were still distinctly recognizable as hickeys and couldn’t be mistaken for a bug bite.

“I am,” he answered honestly and rubbed his hand over his neck, as if that would help to make the hickeys go away quicker. “It’s nothing exclusive, though,” he added to remind himself what a fool he was. If it was up to his fellow students, he could apparently date any girl at university, but he was hung up on a guy who tossed him around like a toy.

“You found a girl who is up for fucking but doesn’t want that whole relationship mumbo-jumbo? Damn, you hit the jackpot,” Kyungtae grinned and Taemin swallowed hard, not believing that anyone could consider this ‘ _hitting the jackpot’_. If they knew how exhausting and tiresome such an arrangement was, they might change their mind about it.

“I guess so.” He forced himself to smile and took one last drag from his cigarette, liking how the taste of beer and nicotine mixed on his tongue, turning it into a cocktail of bittersweet slow death.

“I don’t know if it’s too indiscreet to ask, but how often do you meet up for – you know.” Doohyun made suggestive gestures with his hands.

Stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray standing on the desk, Taemin shrugged his shoulders. “Depends – sometimes daily.”

“Man, skip what I said about wanting to have your face for a week. I want to have your _life_ for a week!” Doohyun exclaimed and hit Taemin’s knee energetically.

Would the other still want to switch lives with him if he knew he would be having sex with a man? Taemin didn’t feel like enlightening his classmates about the sex of his _fling_ , not knowing any of them well enough to trust them with such a delicate piece of information. He feared they might look at him differently then, although it would be an easy way to find out who he shouldn’t meet up with again.

Worrying that the alcohol might make him slip in his narration eventually, Taemin held back with any further comments and changed the topic by asking if anyone had played the newly released game, ‘ _Dishonored II’_ , yet. The group consisting of absolute nerds, they picked up on the change of subject right away, the seven of them soon talking about characters, storyline, and technical details instead of Taemin’s sexual activities.

It was past midnight when Taemin and another guy, who lived in the same dormitory as he did, staggered back home, holding onto each other for support but still falling into bushes twice on their way, the two of them laughing out loud, Taemin’s clothes wet and covered in dirt when they finally reached the dorm’s entrance. The two of them lived on different floors, Taemin telling the guy goodbye as he made his way further up the stairs, gripping tightly onto the handrail and yet almost falling down the steps thrice. In all those months sharing an apartment with four older guys, all of whom knew how to have a good time, he had never been this drunk before.

When he finally made it to the door, he tried to remember the passcode and put in the wrong number eight times, a red light popping up over and over again until he gave up with a whine and reached for his phone.

_‘orget pawscude. dour – hwelp?!4’_

He leaned against the wall next to the door, knees incredibly wobbly. He hadn’t really felt the alcohol in his head when he had left his classmate’s place, but entering a warm dormitory after being out in the cold, it had hit him full force, neither his body nor his mind cooperating properly anymore. He was extremely thirsty and for some reason craved something greasy like chips or beef.

Taemin smacked his lips thoughtlessly, his head hanging low, with the scarf still wrapped around it, as he tried not to slip down the wall, a tired “Hey, wassup?” leaving his mouth when the door opened and Jonghyun greeted him, wearing boxers and his white hoodie from earlier. He looked almost angelic with the hallway light shining at him from behind, and for a moment Taemin was blinded by his beauty.

“Did you drink?” was the first question he was asked, which Taemin answered by almost falling into the other’s arms when he tried to stand up straight again, Jonghyun catching him and immediately turning his head away, wrinkling his nose. “Did you smoke?”

“Maybe,” Taemin said in a singsong tone, finding everything extremely funny, even the way Jonghyun rolled his eyes at him.

“So instead of answering my texts, you went out drinking? With whom?” Jonghyun asked, helping Taemin out of his shoes before giving him a piggyback ride to his room. Taemin slung his arms around Jonghyun’s neck and pressed his nose against the other’s nape, breathing him in, wanting to never let go.

“You smell so good. Why do you always smell so good?” he said in a slur and began to sniff Jonghyun’s hair as well until he was carefully dropped onto his bed, his arms falling lifelessly beside him on the mattress and his stomach’s contents flipping around inside of him, making him feel as if he was about to throw up. 

“Come, sit up. I’ll help you with your clothes,” Jonghyun said calmly. “What did you do? Did you walk through the forest or something?”

When Taemin made no attempt to move, Jonghyun helped him sit up, removing the scarf from around his head and opening the zipper on his jacket. “Lift your arms,” he requested and pulled both the sweater and the t-shirt Taemin was wearing underneath over his head, like the mother hen Taemin had made him out to be in front of his classmates.

“Hey, do you still want to blow me?” Taemin asked cheekily, a grin on his lips when the other moved over to unzip his pants and help him out of those as well. Jonghyun snorted in response as he hung Taemin’s clothes over his chair and walked over to his closet to pick out a warm hoodie and some sweatpants. Taemin swayed from left to right, having a hard time sitting up straight without any support.

“I want to eat something greasy. Do we have chips?” he probed, then gave up on sitting up and fell to the side.

“I’ll get you some water and a bucket just in case you throw up,” Jonghyun explained and placed the clothes next to Taemin on the bed before he disappeared out of the room.

Taemin felt like the other hadn’t even listened to what he had said. What was he supposed to do with water? Swim in it? Why did Jonghyun never listen to him? Did they speak different languages? Wasn’t it important, what he had to say?

Dizzied, Taemin had to hold onto the edge of the mattress to not completely lose focus, his limbs as heavy as lead. He didn’t even hear the other come back in again; the next time he opened his eyes, Jonghyun was trying to get his feet through the holes in the sweatpants.

“Did you bring chips?” he asked and tried to help by lifting his pelvis a little when Jonghyun pulled the sweatpants up his legs.

“No, I brought you water.”

Taemin pulled a dissatisfied face and then tried to sit up again. It was an exhausting process, but when he finally managed it he reached for Jonghyun’s thigh, squeezing it.

“You never listen to me,” he said and pulled at the hairs on Jonghyun’s thigh, making the other flinch a little. “Why do you never listen to me?” Taemin asked, tears suddenly welling up out of nowhere. “I asked for chips and you bring me water,” he sobbed, leaning his head against Jonghyun’s stomach as he stood in front of him.

“Taemin-ah, come on. Let’s put on that sweater and then you try to go to sleep, okay?” Jonghyun’s voice was softer now and Taemin’s head was stroked gently, the gesture making him sob harder. He wasn’t even sure why he felt like crying - because of the chips? Because of Jonghyun? Because of the injustice in the world?

“Why don’t you love me?” he asked as he looked up at Jonghyun, who combed a few strands of hair out of Taemin’s face.

“ _Taemin-ah,_ ” he repeated silently and used his thumb to stroke a few tears away. “Let’s go to sleep, _mh_?”

Jonghyun reached for the hoodie while Taemin, crushed by the other’s indifference, lifted his arms and fell back on the mattress the second Jonghyun had pulled the hoodie over his head. There was another crack in the vase and Taemin was sure that the next one would make it finally fall apart.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Jonghyun asked and grabbed Taemin’s blanket to cover him.

“No,” he replied in a low voice, not wanting to see the other anymore. Even now Jonghyun treated him like a child: helping him out of his clothes, tucking him in, acting more like a mother than a lover, seeing Taemin as someone standing below him and not as an equal.

“Okay, then. If you feel unwell or something, just knock on the wall, okay? And please drink the water before you sleep,” Jonghyun said at last. Taemin turned away from him, not wanting to pay him any more attention. Why should he listen to someone who never listened to him?

“Good night, Taeminnie,” was the last thing he heard Jonghyun say, then the light was turned off and he was left alone with his thoughts and nausea.

Taemin vomited twice before falling asleep, his dreams occupied by an incubus who looked like Jonghyun and offered to make him a demon as well in exchange for his soul. Was the dream trying to tell him something? Was Jonghyun a demon who fed on his sexual energy to live?

It wasn’t all too surprising when Taemin woke up the next morning with a hard-on and a headache from hell, which made him throw up again, so sharp was the pain he experienced when he tried to sit up. He had no idea what time it was and the sky outside gave no hint either, as it was gray and raining.

He could barely remember the events of last night, the majority of it gone, as if someone had edited unnecessary details out of a movie. The taste in his mouth was awful and he reached out for the glass of water still sitting on his desk, the odor of vomit from the bucket next to his bed making him sick all over again.

He stayed in bed for at least another half-hour before he tried to get up again, his head aching with every step he took on his way to the toilet. He swallowed some painkillers and then hopped under the shower, hoping that he would feel better afterward - he didn’t, the painkillers not working quickly enough and the foul taste in his mouth not disappearing even after he brushed his teeth. The thought of eating made him feel like throwing up again, so he went back to bed, telling himself to never touch alcohol again.

When he woke up a second time it was already dark outside, his head feeling better but his body not. He was lethargic; he never wanted to get out of bed again and drown in his own misery instead. Ignoring the time on his phone, which told him that it was 6pm already, he turned over again and buried his head beneath the pillow, wanting to disappear from the face of the earth. He disregarded a soft knock on the door, hoping that the person behind it would leave again if he didn’t say anything, but luck wasn’t on his side, and soon enough the door was carefully opened and he could hear approaching footsteps on the floor.

“Taemin-ah, you can’t sleep all day. You have to eat something,” he heard Jonghyun’s voice softly speaking to him, the mattress dipping as his flat-mate sat down next to him.

Taemin continued to hide himself underneath his pillow, not even reacting when Jonghyun stroked his back gently.

“I cooked Haejangguk. Let’s go and have some.”

The sound of Jonghyun’s voice reminded Taemin oddly of his mom’s when he had been sick as a child: warm and gentle – _motherly_. How was he ever supposed to close this chapter of his life when Jonghyun could be so caring and sweet to him? Jonghyun should let him be, should leave him alone in his unhappiness instead of making things worse by being so caring. Taemin didn’t need a second mother; he already had one. He wanted a boyfriend, because he had zero of those.

“I don’t want to,” Taemin whispered into the mattress, hoping that Jonghyun would leave if he acted like a brat.

“Then I will bring you some,” was the answer Taemin didn’t want to hear. Two minutes later, Jonghyun came back and Taemin could hear the clattering of dishes that were placed on his desk.

“Come on now, sit up for a bit.” Jonghyun shook his shoulder gently but insistently, Taemin eventually giving up his quest of hiding forever and carefully sitting up. There was a small smile on Jonghyun’s lips and he immediately reached forward to comb through Taemin’s tousled hair, the younger not really wanting to imagine how he must look at this very second. _‘You hit the jackpot_ ’ said his friend’s voice in his head, and he wondered why it didn’t feel like that at all.

“My mom coached me through the cooking via a video call, and I tasted it earlier to make sure you won’t die from it,” Jonghyun explained when Taemin rubbed his eyes and took a look at the bowl sitting on his desk, steam rising up from it.

“Thank you,” he said meekly, his throat sore and scratchy. He skidded to the edge of the bed and crossed his legs, picking up the spoon next to the bowl to stir the soup.

“Do you want to tell me why you were out drinking last night without even telling me?”

Taemin huffed at the question, head hovering over the bowl as he tried to slurp some soup into his mouth. The soup wasn’t seasoned enough, but the hot broth felt nice as it ran down his throat.

“Without telling you? Who are you, my mom?” he asked in response, irritation flaring up again.

“Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun began in a soft voice.

“ _Taemin-ah,_ ” Taemin imitated the other right away, mocking him.

“We wanted to watch a movie together, remember?” His voice was still so soft-spoken that it drove Taemin to the edge. “Besides, if you go out somewhere alone at night, it’s good to let someone know. It doesn’t have to be me – it can also be one of the other guys. Just let someone know, okay? What if something bad had happened to you?”

“I wasn’t alone. Besides – it wouldn’t be much of a loss,” Taemin dismissed the other’s worries, hearing Jonghyun sigh next to him.

“Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun repeated again, Taemin wanting to punch the other in the face for always repeating his name in a tone like that.

“I met up with friends from university. We had Bulgogi and then went to one of their dorms to have some beer. Just a bunch of losers hanging out together, nothing exciting. What was supposed to happen - they hack my computer and put a Trojan on it?” Taemin laughed at his own stupid joke, almost burning his lips when he ate another spoonful before deciding to let it cool down a bit.

“‘Some beer’? I’ve never seen you that drunk, and you reeked like an ashtray.” There was concern mixed with judgment in Jonghyun’s voice, something Taemin couldn’t stand to hear right now. He judged himself more than enough and didn’t need others to do so as well. It had been nice to spend the night with same-aged people, who didn’t constantly treat him like a child.

“And? Your point?” he replied in a passive-aggressive tone that was hard to overlook and placed the spoon on his desk.

“I didn’t know you smoked and you usually don’t drink that much. So what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I already told you. Everything is _peachy_ ,” Taemin said through gritted teeth, his headache coming back full force. Why couldn’t the other let him be? Was it so difficult? How was he ever supposed to create distance between them when Jonghyun stepped over every fence he put up? “You told me I’m only a freshman once and should enjoy it, right?” he asked then. “At least I only got drunk with classmates at nineteen and didn’t fuck my way through Seoul’s gay club scene like you did.”

Taemin was being spiteful and mean, but he couldn’t stand to see the other’s face anymore, knowing that nothing he said or did would ever change anything about the way Jonghyun saw him. He watched the other from the corner of his eye, saw how he pressed his lips together and contemplated what to say. A part of him desperately hoped that Jonghyun would finally speak up and say something, but all he got was a simple, “Fine, then,” said in a voice far less gentle than before.

“Fine,” Taemin repeated and flinched a little as Jonghyun got up from the bed and shut the door on his way out of the room, louder than Taemin was used to. He sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands, feeling at a loss.

The vase had received its final crack and Taemin watched it fall apart, staring at the shards in his hands which cut into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * the mentioned animes are purely fictional  
> ** the original title of the mentioned book is 'Schlafes Bruder' by Robert Schneider and so is the English title. It translates to "Sleep's brother" and refers to Greek mythology, where Hypnos (god of sleep) is the brother of Thanatos, also known as the god of death. For some reason the Korean translator turned it into 'The Organist' and I stuck with that instead of using the title of the English version. Translation by me because I was too lazy to look for the English version of the book.  
> *** Ao3 has a huge problem with longer chapters atm. The time it took for me to update this fic because the site crashed constantly - no fun.  
> **** if you liked this chapter, please share your thoughts. ^^  
> ***** we're halfway through the story now! :D  
> ****** Chapter 8 won't follow the regular schedule. I have some trouble editing it and am rather busy with real-life stuff at the moment, so yeah.  
> ******* Please stay safe!
> 
>   
> [lalapipo.carrd.co](https://lalapipo.carrd.co)  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter is sponsored by [this screenshot](https://i.ibb.co/zQLf68k/EMvg-Sb2-XMAARg-Vv.jpg). 
> 
> This week is my birthday week (December babies for the win) so I hope you will all have an extra great week. ^^
> 
> The original draft of chapter 8 was 10k long, the edited version is now 35k - so as you can see a lot happened while I didn't update this story. I could have split it into two parts, but didn't want to do that. 
> 
> JongTae enthusiasts please stay strong - as announced previously - there will be a JongTae drought for the next two chapters, but fear not, everything is going to turn out fine - _eventually_ \- until then *points at the linked screenshot at the top* 😉 I mean - It WAS a long time coming.

If one were to look up a definition of ‘ _Cold War,’_ they would stumble upon a description by the writer George Orwell, who coined the term in an essay called _You and the Atomic Bomb_ , which was published in 1945. Generally speaking, it describes a conflict between nations that doesn’t involve any direct military action and is instead fought through politics and propaganda. Most commonly it is used in reference to the Soviet-American Cold War. 

As Taemin skipped through one of Minho’s history books at the kitchen table, titled _The Sino-Soviet Alliance and China’s Entry into the Korean War_ , he wondered who in the dorm was the Soviet Union and who was the United States. What had gone on between Taemin and Jonghyun since that fateful exchange of “ _Fine_ ”s a few days ago was, in Taemin’s opinion, best described as a cold war, which was, however, not fought with politics or through propaganda but with silence - _suffocating silence_. A silence so heavy that Taemin felt it press down on his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe whenever Jonghyun was around. 

Jonghyun had stopped talking to him completely, bestowing him with the silent treatment after the sudden ending of their _tête-à-tête_ the other day, acting like Taemin was a ghost floating through the apartment. They both avoided each other’s presence, taking U-turns whenever they encountered one another in the kitchen or the bathroom, Taemin even going as far as leaving the sink one morning when Jonghyun had come out of hiding in his hermit cave, to walk back into his room with his toothbrush still stuck between his lips. Mouth filled with foam, he had stayed inside until he couldn’t hear Jonghyun’s feet passing through the bathroom anymore. It was ridiculously childish behavior, but Taemin’s nerves had been worn thin and he needed time to reflect, time to find his balance again, time to think about what he actually wanted. 

However, he didn’t understand why Jonghyun was avoiding him and looked right through him as if he didn’t exist – he hadn’t said or done anything wrong. Taemin hadn’t been the one playing constant mind games, leaving Jonghyun in the dark about his feelings, and Jonghyun hadn’t been the one constantly getting rejected. 

“No offense, but you look like shit,” Minho pointed out, twirling a pen between his fingers as he sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table, working on his term paper. Taemin shrugged as he ate his regular breakfast, taking a spoonful of cereal and slurping the milk. 

“I guess that happens when you can’t fall asleep,” he answered in a monotone voice and let the spoon fall back into the bowl with a clank. A few drops of milk splashed out to land on the open book in front of him, and Taemin apologetically wiped them away with the cuff of his hoodie’s sleeve. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you can’t fall asleep without him?”

Another shrug, unmotivated and sluggish; two verbs that described Taemin’s state of being perfectly.

“Don’t know.”

A sigh made him look up and Taemin watched Minho scratch his head in thought, a tiny wrinkle appearing as a guest between his eyebrows, nestling itself between them.

“You might not want to talk with me about it, I understand that,” Minho said slowly, as if he was thinking about what to say as he spoke, “But I can be objective if I have to. If you need someone to talk to about what happened, I just want you to know that I am here – two doors away.”

Taemin nodded, not knowing what to say. There wasn’t anything to talk about. Jonghyun wasn’t talking to him and he didn’t want to talk to Jonghyun either. He was _fine_ with that; he didn’t _need_ Jonghyun, didn’t _want_ Jonghyun – at least, that’s what he tried to tell himself whenever he saw the other around and his throat tightened.

“Going out might help to clear your head. Do some mental spring cleaning or something,” Minho suggested. “You haven’t left the apartment for what? Three or four days now?”

 _Three days, four days, five days_ – it didn’t matter to Taemin. Time was an illusion and in the end, weren’t they all just part of a Matrix, controlled like puppets by a big unknown? _God, maybe_? 

“I’m meeting up with some friends to play some soccer outside this afternoon. You can join if you want.”

“It’s February.” Taemin pulled an unhappy face at the thought of doing any kind of sport in the cold and flipped a book page, a black and white picture of Stalin next to Mao popping up. As awful as war was, Taemin couldn’t help but think that life as a soldier must have been a simpler one, one’s brain occupied with thoughts of survival. There probably wasn’t a place for sick sentimentalism when you were freezing somewhere in a tent in the middle of winter, wondering if you would get to see another sunrise.

“We want to hang out at a bar afterward to grab some drinks and some food. Come on.” Minho gave his shin a light push with his foot underneath the table. “There is no point in moping around. Live a little.”

Taemin raised an eyebrow and ran a hand through his hair. “Ever considered a career as a motivational coach?”

Minho laughed. “No, but I might give it a thought in the future if my university career fails me,” he said. “If you aren’t coming with me, what else have you planned for the day? A fascinating and productive night filled with computer games and _ramyeon_ , all locked up in your room?”

Taemin felt caught, having already downloaded new games, some he had planned on trying out with Jonghyun, but he would rather bite off his tongue now than approach the other to ask if he was up for a night filled with some virtual escapism. He didn’t want to be the helpless puppy anymore. Jonghyun had been more than obvious in not answering any of Taemin’s questions; dodging them, avoiding them, not listening to them – not listening to _him_. 

He didn’t care – it didn’t matter to him; _Taemin_ didn’t matter to him – not enough, at least. That much Taemin had finally accepted, no matter how hurtful the truth was.

“I need to study for my exams,” Taemin stated as a – what he considered – valid excuse, but Minho eyed him uncertainly.

“All of a sudden you remembered that you are a university student? _Now_ that I want to get you out of this apartment?”

Another apathetic shrug. “I don’t even know any of your friends,” Taemin murmured. Being around strangers always made him uncomfortable, and being indifferent toward everything in the world right now made him feel even less inclined to interact with someone he didn’t know. 

“You’ve met Seungho and Changsung before,” Minho took the wind out of his sails. “They were here for our get-together, remember? And the others are nice as well. They don’t bite.”

 _Seungho_. Taemin remembered him – the average guy, with average looks, who mixed good drinks but didn’t talk much. He pulled a face, doubtful, weighing the pros and cons of going out in comparison to spending the day in front of his laptop. He was about to say _‘No’_ when a door nearby opened, his heart instantly drumming in his ears. A simple “Morning,” was all it took for him to stand up and grab his coffee and his cereal bowl, hands shaking, legs about to buckle. How was it possible that someone’s presence, someone’s voice alone had so much power over him?

“I’ll come with you. Just text me when you’re leaving,” Taemin mumbled under his breath and left the kitchen as quickly as possible with a lowered head, only catching Jonghyun’s feet and naked calves on his way to his room. It didn’t matter to him that he was acting like a middle school student, who had been rejected after writing a little love note in class. He didn’t want to face Jonghyun, didn’t want to be around Jonghyun. It was too painful. 

“What did you do?” 

Taemin leaned his back against the closed door, listening intently to every word that came out of Minho’s mouth. He was a walking contradiction, wanting to stay as far away from Jonghyun as possible but craving to hear his answer, the sound of his voice, even if it was just through a piece of wood.

“Nothing.”

That small word was like a thousand fine needles piercing through his chest. _Nothing_. 

To Jonghyun it might have been _nothing_ – to Taemin it had been _everything_.

“And _nothing_ makes him leave the room when you enter it?”

“You’d better ask him about that, not me.”

Taemin sank down in front of the door, placing the bowl and the cup of coffee next to him on the floor as he pulled his legs toward his body.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, maybe that’s a sign for you to not get involved.” 

“I won’t hold back anymore.” Minho’s voice was loud and clear.

“ _Anymore_? Do you think I don’t see the way you’re always looking at him? He doesn’t deserve to be just another checkmark on your list of conquests.”

Taemin bit his lip and wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his face against them. It was weird following a conversation about him without being physically present. He was sure that his flat-mates knew that he could hear them – every single word that left their lips. 

There was a deep laugh and Taemin tapped his feet nervously against the floor.

“But he deserves to be tossed around by you?”

 _No, he didn’t_. No one deserved that. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m protecting him.”

It was the biggest lie Jonghyun had ever told. Playing around with Taemin’s feelings was all he ever did. His intentions might have been good when he had tried to break it off after Taemin’s confession, but months had passed since then and Taemin felt worse than he had ever done. 

“I guess he would disagree on that.”

There was a sound of footsteps shuffling around and a few seconds later he flinched as a door fell closed, silence settling in their apartment. It was all Jonghyun ever did – running away, escaping confrontation when listening to the truth became too uncomfortable. Why had he never acted like this in Kibum’s presence? Why had he been so straightforward about his feelings, about his needs, about his wishes when it had come to Kibum? Why had he only ever been upfront with Taemin when it had come to sex? Was Taemin worth so little? 

A body _good enough_ to fuck – but _not good enough_ to love?

Taemin’s coffee was cold when he decided to finally get up, the taste bitter and vile, everything in his face tightening in response. He crawled into his bed, let the cold coffee and the soggy cereal be, and stared at the wall in front of him, hoping for a sign, something – _anything –_ only to be met by the cold and unyielding bleakness of his desolate existence.

At five he left the dormitory with Minho, hands buried deep in his black jacket, the regret of having agreed on going out spreading inside of him as a cold wind blew past his nose, rumpling up his hair. He hid the lower part of his face inside the high collar and hiked his shoulders up, Minho next to him dressed in his long navy blue winter coat and blue jeans, carrying a black _NIKE_ sports bag. 

“I’m not going to play, though,” Taemin puffed as they entered the sports field after a fifteen minute walk. Two of Minho’s friends were already waiting near a locker room on the other side, waving them over. 

“You don’t have to. You can marvel at me from the sidelines.” Minho winked with a playful smile and gave him a little nudge as they marched over the grass, the surrounding headlights already turned on as it slowly began to get dark.

Was that what he had meant by not holding back anymore? Going back to his former self and ignoring Taemin’s wish of just being friends to flirt openly with him? Had he only lain in wait for Jonghyun to mess things up so he could appear as the prince in shining armor and rescue Taemin from a dangerous dragon? 

“Hey,” Minho called out loudly as they came closer, waving his hands above his head as if he was seeing his friends for the first time after coming home from a long trip.

Taemin had expected all of Minho’s friends to be tall jocks, who hung around in packs like wolves to make it easier for them to locate and hunt down fresh prey. But the case was quite the contrary, as a chubby, smaller guy with glasses and short hair was the first one to greet them, introducing himself to Taemin with a ‘Hey, I’m Jihoon.’ Taemin wasn’t a fan of stereotypes, having had to live with too many of his own, but Jihoon fit his image of a history major far more than Minho had ever done, and it was relieving to see that he wouldn’t be spending the night with a round of guys who were on the prowl. 

By the time, Taemin thought he was about to freeze to death, thirteen people had gathered, Taemin smiling politely at everyone without saying anything other than ‘Hi, I’m Taemin’ while Minho disappeared to get changed in the locker room along with a few others. Striking up a conversation had always been a problem of his because he didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to bore people, didn’t want anyone to dislike him. At home, in the countryside, he had Jongin, who loved talking to anyone and easily made friends, but in the big city he was on his own, only really getting to know people when he was forced together with them, be it because he lived with them under one roof or because he had classes with them. People who walked up to strangers and talked to them of their own free will had always impressed him. It was a superpower Taemin wished he possessed. 

“You’re one of Ming’s flat-mates?” one of them approached him casually. It was a lanky tall guy with lightly colored hair. 

Taemin nodded, pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his pants. “Yeah, I moved into the apartment in September.”

“Cool,” was all the guy said with a smile and then the conversation was already over and Taemin didn’t know if he was supposed to say something in return, ask for a name or just leave it at that. Awkwardly standing around and shaking from the biting cold, he was glad when everyone had changed into sportswear and he could sit down on one of the benches next to the field and watch others play soccer without having to strike up small talk about the weather with anyone. He felt like an outsider, like someone who didn’t belong there, fantasizing about sitting in his warm room back at the dorm with a cup of _ramyeon_ in his hands and a good computer game as he looked over at the group of young men on the soccer field. 

Minho had changed into black trunks and a red Arsenal London tricot and walked over the soccer field as if they were all guests in his living room. Taemin watched him fasten a yellow strap around his arm after the guys had decided on teams by playing rock-paper-scissors. He warmed up by stretching a little, some of the guys following suit while others stood around and talked. 

“Let’s go!” Minho yelled after a few minutes and clapped his hands, his face taking on an expression Taemin knew all too well by now. His eyes were focused and the fire of determination burned in them. Taemin always found it amusing how Minho could flick a switch and turn from his goofy and flirty flat-mate to this very serious and driven person, like his soul was possessed by two demons. 

The soccer match consisted of a lot of screaming and dangerous sliding tackles, Minho’s shin dirty and bleeding after one of his friends had thrown himself between him and the ball to prevent Minho from shooting a goal. Minho hadn’t even blinked an eye, had downplayed the pain after his friend had apologized, although Taemin saw him limping a little afterward, hand constantly reaching down to wipe away the blood trickling down his leg. 

When Taemin got bored of following the game, he pulled his phone out of his jacket and checked social media, unable to force down the desire to check on Jonghyun’s activities, his thumb immediately closing the app when the first ten posts were all _‘likes’_ he had left on guys’ posts again. The words ‘ _I like men and I like looking at them. It’s something that men who like men do’_ crossed his mind, and he speculated whether Jonghyun had gone out of his way to like photos to spite him, because he knew that Taemin would look at his account – _because he knew_ that it would hurt him.

But why did he even care? He shouldn’t care, but it was so hard. Everything reminded him of Jonghyun, even the blood on Minho’s shin; the image of blood running down Jonghyun’s chin during their basketball game appearing in front of him. 

_‘What’s up?’_ Taemin wrote Jongin to distract himself. He held his phone in both hands as he waited for a reply, legs shaking with cold. Minho waved his arms around on the field to guide his teammates like a conductor directed an orchestra, a guy passing him a ball and Minho shooting a goal in the next second. He made a fist and kissed it before raising it energetically, the gesture making Taemin chuckle into his collar. His flat-mate could be so over-the-top that it was straight-out embarrassing to watch at times.

_‘Not me - I’m lying in bed, watching ‘Iron Man’. U?’_

Taemin took a quick photo of the soccer field and sent it to his friend. ‘ _Being bored’_ he added as a caption, rubbing his cold fingers against his jeans, the tips already numb. 

‘ _Wow - the new FIFA surely looks HQ._ 😝’

Taemin wanted to pour out his heart, fingertips hovering above the screen, reluctant to type what he thought. He wanted to tell someone about his feelings, wanted to vent, needed some kind of outlet, but he hadn’t mentioned that Jonghyun and he weren’t talking anymore. He hadn’t even mentioned that he had started sleeping with Jonghyun again after his confession many months ago. Taemin had left Jongin in the dark about everything that went on in Seoul because he knew what his best-friend would say, knew that Jongin would tell him to get his ‘ _dick wet with someone else then_ ’ and to ‘ _not be sad about Jonghyun’s rejection_.’

If only things were that easy. 

_‘Jongin, I fucked up. I fell in love with someone who doesn’t care about me and I don’t know how to make it stop’_ is what Taemin wanted to write, but instead he typed, _‘Yeah, you don’t even have to use controllers to play the game anymore_ 😝 _’_

_‘Why aren’t you on the field?’_

_‘Too cold. Besides, my flat-mate gets kind of scary when he plays soccer. I’m only here for drinks and food.’_ Taemin replied, looking up when Minho yelled at someone for leaving his position in the defense and therefore making it easier for their opponents to shoot a redeeming goal. 

The match lasted for about an hour and Taemin was glad when it finally ended, his feet and hands frozen to ice, lips numb and probably having taken on a bluish color. He wasn’t made for the cold; he preferred the warmer months of the year when he could run around in t-shirts and flip-flops. 

“Tag along to the locker room before you turn into an ice block,” Minho told Taemin after running up to him with a big smile on his lips, while the rest of the guys headed towards the neighboring building. His tricot was drenched in sweat and mud, hair plastered to his forehead, blood dried on his shin, chest heaving as he took a few deep breaths. “No point in sitting outside in the cold alone when there is heating inside.” 

With a nod, Taemin followed Minho, blissful warmth engulfing his body when he entered the locker room, the interior plain and functional, the floor and walls covered in brown rectangular tiles, sports bags lying around on wooden benches. 

“We’ll be hitting the shower real quick and then head right to a bar, okay?” Minho asked him as he rummaged through his bag to grab a towel and body wash.

Sitting down on the bench next to it, Taemin gave another silent, indifferent nod as he tried to defrost, his nose runny. He would have preferred to go home and huddle up underneath the blankets to watch some anime or a movie, but he had endured the cold for so long that he deemed it pointless to leave now, when alcohol and food were within reach.

The locker room was noisy for a while, until the last person had left for the shower room, Taemin listening to the dull pattering of water and the sound of distant voices as he pulled out his phone to check the time. It was barely past half past 6 pm and yet it felt like Taemin had spent hours waiting around outside, watching a sport he had no profound interest in, enduring all that just because he had wanted to score off Jonghyun, who didn’t care. 

Minho and his friend Jihoon were the first to come out of the shower room, the two young men building a complete contrast as they walked next to each other: Minho almost a head taller, chest toned and muscles well-defined underneath his tanned skin, while Jihoon appeared like a cute, squishy marshmallow next to him. 

“Are you fine with tapas? One of the guys recommended a new bar near campus,” Minho addressed him as he came to a standstill in front of his sports bag, a towel wrapped around his hips, as he stuffed his dirty clothes into it. 

“As long as there is food, I’m fine with everything,” Taemin said, pulling his legs in when another guy passed him. 

“As expected. I already told the guys that you probably don’t care as long as you get something to eat.” Minho smiled down at him and casually took off his towel. This time, Taemin couldn’t help but look, staring inevitably as he sat almost on eye-level with Minho’s junk. Minho was certainly _bi–_

“Don’t get fooled. It’s much bigger when it’s hard.”

Taemin looked up in disbelief, his ears prickling when Minho smirked at him and slipped his underwear back on. 

“It’s not like I wanted to know,” he replied in a whisper, not wanting to draw any attention toward them, because he wasn’t too sure how comfortable Minho’s friends were with a conversation like that. 

“Knowing doesn’t hurt though, _right_?” 

Taemin had never met a person who smiled as much as Minho did, his lips curled upwards most of the time. Therefore it didn’t surprise him how popular his flat-mate was, how many people wanted to have sex with him or simply be friends with him. There was something contagious about his lighthearted attitude, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. There never seemed to be any rain in Minho’s life, just sunshine 24 hours a day. 

“Technique is more important than size, no?” Taemin asked as Minho stepped back into his jeans and zipped it up, more and more guys coming out of the shower room, the noise level around them growing. 

“Debatable,” Minho said in response. “But if we assume what you say is true – then imagine what it must be like to have both? Technique and size.” 

“What are you trying to tell me? That you are the whole package?” Taemin arched an eyebrow, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, eyes focusing on a guy’s naked butt on the other side of the room. It was small but very round. _Cute_.

“ _Oh_ , so you think I have both? Technique and size?” Minho’s grin widened. “ _Well, thank you_.”

Taemin answered with a scornful wheeze and didn’t continue their conversation, eyes wandering through the room instead, a sausage fest on a few square meters presenting itself in front of him. Jonghyun would probably have loved the view. A short pinch of agony shook him and Taemin tried to think about something else, hating his brain for always leading him back to a person he didn’t want to think about. 

The bar they entered a while later looked nice, the whole interior, from the chairs and tables to the bar kept in dark oak and conveying an almost homey feeling. Wine bottles stood in a straight line on top of shelves behind the bar, and a Spanish flag with the words ‘ _tapas bar_ ’ and a black bull printed next to it hung underneath, greeting them.

Taemin ordered a Spanish beer, deep-fried octopus rings, croquettes filled with ham, and omelet as he was squished between Minho and an antique shelf filled with old books in a corner booth. The noise the group made became too much for him and instead of communicating with anyone in the group, which had been split between two tables, he busied himself with drinking beer from a huge glass and stuffing himself with food as he leaned against the bookshelf with his shoulder and tried to pay attention to what Minho said. There was a lot of _‘...Lionel Messi...blah blah blah...soccer...blah blah blah...sports blah blah…’_ , Taemin’s thoughts drifting back to the dorm, wondering what Jonghyun might be up to. Was he at home? Was he out, making out with a random stranger? 

“Yah Taemin! What are you doing here?” An excited-sounding voice pulled him out of the darkness his mind was flooded with, and when he lifted his head to see who was talking to him, a familiar face came into view.

“Dusung,” he replied, posture instantly straightening as he recognized his classmate, a smile appearing on his lips. “How are you doing?” 

His classmate seemed like an epiphany of the Virgin Mary, coming to him in his darkest hour to free him from the demons occupying his head. 

“I’m doing good, hanging out with my flat-mates,” Dusung said and turned his head to point at a group of four guys sitting on the other side of the room. “Was on my way to the loo when I saw you and had to say ‘Hi’,” he explained. 

Taemin smiled at him and immediately got up to squeeze himself between the bookshelf and the table to get out of their seating arrangement. “I need to go to the loo as well,” he clarified when Dusung looked at him with elevated eyebrows. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Taemin said as soon as they were out of ear-shot and gave his friend a little tap on the back. He didn’t mind Minho’s friends; they were probably nice company, but there were too many of them, and frankly, they talked about things Taemin had not even the slightest bit of interest in, nor any knowledge about. 

“Who are they?” Dusung asked when the door to the toilets fell closed behind them and they moved over to the urinals.

“My flat-mate’s friends. The tall guy who was sitting to my left. I don’t know why I thought tagging along would be a good idea.” Taemin unzipped his pants and let loose, staring straight ahead at a poster hanging up on the wall, showing an elderly man holding a shot glass in his hand, with the words ‘ _Tequila! Have you hugged your toilet today?_ ’ written in white lettering on a blue background. 

“You should have written something in our group chat if you wanted to hang out,” Dusung said and stepped away from the urinal soon to wash his hands in the neighboring sink. 

“Yeah, I should have.”

Taemin joined the other when he was done peeing and cleaned his hands under the running water while taking a quick look at the mirror in front of him. He looked awful, to put it mildly: ashy skin, dark circles under his eyes, even a nasty red pimple had found its way onto his chin, which he had tried to cover with a pimple patch.

“Up for a smoke outside?” Dusung asked him when both of them were done and Taemin nodded without wavering, the two university students soon finding themselves sitting on a bench in a smoking area outside, a radiant heater in the shape of a street lamp standing right next to them, keeping them from turning to ice.

After lighting up a cigarette for Taemin, Dusung leaned against the back of the bench with his own stuck between his lips and straightened out his legs. “Have you already started studying?” 

Taemin pulled a face at him. “No university talk.”

There was some laughter and then a nod. “I haven’t started either,” he explained and took a long drag from his cigarette. “We should form a study group or something, because I don’t want to retake that class next year.”

“I thought about that as well. Might help me to get some studying done,” Taemin admitted and placed his elbows on his knees, holding the cigarette in his right hand as he looked at the empty street in front of them. A young guy in a green apron swept the ground in front of a convenience store nearby. 

“Yeah, I think so too,” Dusung said with a long sigh and then the two of them became quiet, smoking their cigarettes in peace, the music and voices from inside the bar lowered down to a mere buzz and only occasionally rising to their full volume when someone opened the door. Taemin enjoyed the moment of relaxation, not minding the silence between him and his classmate, feeling comfortable enough with him to not see it as a sign that they didn’t have anything to talk about. 

Taemin had just lit a second cigarette when the door to the bar opened anew and Minho stepped out, looking around until their eyes met.

“There you are,” he said, sounding relieved, his eyebrows furrowing when he discovered the cigarette in Taemin’s hand. 

“Sorry, it was too loud. So we came out for a bit,” Taemin said and skidded closer to Dusung so Minho could sit down next to them. Minho didn’t say anything concerning the cigarettes, but Taemin was sure this was only because he didn’t want to sound belittling. It was something he appreciated, because he didn’t need the humiliation of getting a lecture from one of his flat-mates in front of a classmate.

“Hey, I’m Minho. One of Taemin’s flat-mates,” Minho introduced himself in a friendly manner and reached around Taemin to shake hands with Dusung.

“Nice to meet you. I’m one of his classmates, Dusung.” He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and held it towards Minho. “Want one?” 

Minho shook his head. “No, I don’t smoke.”

“Good for you,” Dusung commented with his cigarette dancing on his bottom lip and stuffed the box back to take another drag. 

“Why did you come outside?” Taemin asked as he observed his flat-mate from the corner of his eye.

“I was worried because you didn’t come back. So I wanted to check if everything was alright.”

“Man, my flat-mates would leave me in the dumpster if it came down to it,” Dusung joked loudly and sat up to put his cigarette out in an ashtray standing on a small table next to the bench. 

“Yeah no, we care about each other in our apartment,” Minho countered, but Taemin wasn’t sure if he agreed with that statement. He didn’t care about Kibum and would probably leave him near a dumpster as well, and by now he was also sure that Jonghyun would leave Taemin next to a dumpster if he found him there. 

“Are all of you such Casanovas like Taemin? It must be very loud in your dorm then.”

Taemin’s cheeks warmed up instantly and he took a hasty drag from his cigarette, fearing that all his directness from that fateful night would backfire now. 

“Taemin a Casanova?” Minho probed and Taemin heard the smile in the other’s voice without needing to look at him. 

“Yeah, he lives in heaven, doesn’t he? Friends with benefits with a hot girl. He hit the freshman jackpot,” Dusung babbled and Taemin wondered if it had been the Virgin Mary who had come to rescue him or if in reality the fallen angel Lucifer had appeared in front of his eyes to plan his downfall. 

“ _Ah_!” Minho said all of a sudden, as if he’d had an epiphany, and Taemin feared that his flat-mate would blow his cover, would come down on him in front of his classmate and Taemin would never be able to look at anyone ever again without feeling ashamed. “Yeah, _that_ arrangement. Taemin surely hit the jackpot there. Who doesn’t want to bang a hottie without any strings attached? It’s every guy’s dream, right?” 

Taemin took a deep breath, relief washing over him, cleansing him of sin, a rope pulling him back from descending to the 8th circle of Hell, where he would have been submerged in boiling pitch.

“That’s what I’m saying. I hate the notion of being together with someone just to be able to sleep with them. But finding a girl who doesn’t need that whole relationship shebang is super rare. So Taemin is one lucky bastard,” Dusung reinforced Minho’s words, leaving Taemin unsure what to say to any of that. It was naïve to believe that _‘sex without strings attached_ ’ was the solution to anything. It might work for some, but it hadn’t worked for Taemin.

“Yes, Taemin surely was lucky to find such a _girl_. But who can blame _her_ , look at his face. No _girl_ can say no to that.”

There was a subtle nuance of sarcasm in Minho’s words that went right over Dusung’s head but was all Taemin heard. He took one last drag from his cigarette and then put it out. Maybe it was time to go before things got out of his control. 

“I think I’ll be heading home,” Taemin announced as he got up and stretched, Minho and Dusung both looking up at him when he turned around.

“I’ll come with you, then,” Minho said immediately.

“No need to.”

“It wasn’t a question. I’m tired anyway.”

There wasn’t an option to argue with Minho, especially since Taemin couldn’t forbid the other to go home if that was something he wanted. Dusung bid them farewell on their way inside and walked back to his flat-mates’ table, while Taemin and Minho grabbed their belongings from inside, said goodbye to everyone and paid their bill at the bar before they left. Taemin huddled into his jacket to brace against the cold, Minho walking closely next to him, their arms brushing against each other.

“You know smoking fucks up your lungs.”

“I know,” Taemin answered, short-spoken, eyes focused on the street in front of them, guiding them through small alleys.

“Why did you start, then?”

“No reason.” Taemin shrugged, not in the mood to discuss his health or his newly found habits.

They walked in silence until they entered the district’s main street, cars still busily occupying the asphalt so late in the day. Shops and restaurants blazed with light, and Taemin looked through windows at people talking, laughing, and drinking. 

“Thanks for not blowing my cover,” he mentioned after a while and moved closer as an elderly lady with her dog passed them. 

“You probably had your reasons for it,” Minho said and came to an abrupt halt in front of a convenience store. “Mind if we stop here for a second?”

Taemin shook his head and then followed the other through the automatic sliding door, a popular song trickling through the speakers as Taemin strolled after his flat-mate. They didn’t stay long, Minho turning their visit into a short affair by grabbing some chips and beer and walking straight to the cash register to pay with his Tmoney card.

“Hey, are you up for some movie-watching?” Minho asked as soon as they were outside again, Taemin unable to prevent his eyebrow from moving upward as he looked at the other questioningly. 

“Is ‘movie-watching’ a euphemism for sex?” Taemin couldn’t help but ask, remembering Minho’s words from earlier that day; his threat of not wanting to ‘ _hold back anymore_ ’.

His flat-mate laughed in response and shook his head, poking Taemin’s shoulder with the plastic bag he held in his hand. “No! Movie-watching as in _watching a movie_. Don’t always make me look like some kind of sex monster. You probably had far more sex in the past few months than I did,” Minho said with a grin.

“You sometimes make it hard not to make you look like one,” Taemin gave to consider as the two of them crossed the street to enter the premises of their dormitory complex. 

“But you know better than that.” Minho cocked his head.

“Do I?” 

Minho shrugged. “At least, I hope so. I enjoy sex. Is that a crime?”

“No,” Taemin answered, although he knew that this question didn’t require one. “As long as it’s consensual, it’s –” 

“You’re starting to sound more and more like him, did you know that?” Minho interrupted him, Taemin averting his gaze as his cheeks and ears began to heat up again. “There can’t possibly be any enjoyment if it’s not consensual. The best part about having sex is to make each other feel good – to see each other in pleasure, you know? Nothing can top that – and I highly doubt that this is something that can be achieved if it’s non-consensual.”

Taemin couldn’t help images of Jonghyun from appearing in front of his eyes, the older one writhing in pleasure underneath him, body tensed, pupils dilated, skin flushed, mouth moaning his name, nails digging into his arms, legs pulling him closer, lips searching for his. Seeing the other so aroused had been the greatest gift anyone had ever given him, and sadly enough, it was a gift he wasn’t sure he had valued enough. 

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Minho chuckled, nudging him again. “Pervert.”

The apartment was dipped in quiet when they entered it, no light shining under any of the doors, eerie silence swirling through the kitchen, except for the constant humming sound coming from the fridge. 

“You still didn’t give me an answer,” Minho reminded him as they slipped out of their shoes at the entrance. 

“To what?” Taemin asked, padding over the laminate.

“Movie night. It’s not even 9 pm yet.” 

Taemin hesitated, hands still in the pockets of his jacket, fingers clenching and unclenching as he considered what he should say or do. He needed a distraction, knowing that playing computer games or watching something by himself would only lead to him drowning in a pool of images of Jonghyun.

“Your room or mine?”

He had never asked anyone that question other than Jonghyun and it felt weird saying it out loud now, as if he was committing a crime by inviting Minho into his personal space, by not letting him lie in wait behind closed doors. It felt like inviting a vampire into his home. 

“Yours.”

The answer made something heavy inside of Taemin plop down in his stomach. His room felt sacred in a way, the place he and Jonghyun had spent most of their time together, and having Minho inside felt like desecrating it. 

“I’ll just get changed into something more comfortable,” Minho said at last and pointed at his own room, the plastic bag in his upheld hand rustling. They parted ways and Taemin washed his hands before exchanging jeans for sweatpants in his room and turning his laptop on. Watching movies was something he had done with Jonghyun and a part of him wished for the door to open and reveal Jonghyun standing behind it, smiling at him, hugging him, and pressing a kiss to his neck, but the wish stayed unfulfilled: as _Windows_ booted up and Taemin put in his password, _*J0nGiN!0114!,_ Minho knocked on the door, waiting to be let inside. 

The two watched ‘ _Battle Royale’_ , a movie Taemin had already seen several times and had suggested due to its brutal nature: a pointless splatter film that followed high-school students who had been taken to a remote island by a totalitarian government to fight to the death. It was exactly what he needed to take his mind off things. Minho didn’t mind his film choice, so they settled on the bed with the lights turned off, each of them with a can of beer in hand as they witnessed how tons of fake blood was splattered over the screen, accentuated beautifully by Strauss’ [_Radetzky March_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLEW2SsVNcA&ab_channel=ClassicalMusic11) playing in the background.

“If we were put on that island, who would be the first one you’d kill?” Minho asked after the first few students from the class had been brutally murdered, while Taemin stole chips out of the bag lying between their bodies. The whole situation reminded him scarily of the only other time he ever had watched a movie with Minho, but his feelings had been different then. He had only been standing at the starting line, not knowing how far down the road he would be by now.

“I wouldn’t kill anyone.” Taemin munched on the salty chips and then licked the seasoning from his fingertips, unfazed when he saw how a girl killed a boy by embedding a sickle in his head.

There was a light chuckle. “Liar. I know it would be Kibum.”

Taemin crooked his head toward him and frowned. “Just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean I would take the first opportunity to kill him.” 

Screams echoed through the room.

“But what if you had to? Imagine we live in such a regime. What would you do? Surrender yourself and be the first to die?” Minho wondered and took a sip from his beer. 

“I’d try to trick them. There must be a way out of there without killing anyone or getting killed.”

“What if there isn’t?” Minho probed further, a blanket he had brought along crumpled to a pillow behind his back as he lounged on the mattress.

Taemin hesitated. He loved playing first shooter games, but killing a person in real life was completely out of question. He wouldn’t be able to do it. 

“Then I would want to get killed first. I wouldn’t take any weapons and just stand there, waiting for someone to end me,” he concluded and took another handful of chips. 

“That’s quite the Jesus thing to do,” Minho said. “Who would you want to be the one who kills you, then?” 

“Jonghyun,” Taemin answered without thinking and stared at the screen, the camera following two students who tried to hide. The name felt foreign on his tongue, as if he had to relearn how to say it. 

“Dude, that’s dark.”

Taemin shrugged nonchalantly. “Why? You asked.”

“That’s true,” Minho uttered and turned his body toward Taemin. “It’s a bad choice, though. He wouldn’t do it. Not in a million years.”

Taemin licked his lips and looked back at his flat-mate, the grip around his beer can tightening a little, dents appearing on the aluminum. “Who would do it then? _You_?” 

“If you asked me to, sure.”

Unable to suppress a snarky little laugh, Taemin clinked cans with Minho. “Thanks, man. Good to know I can count on you if we wake up in a dystopia tomorrow morning.” 

“Just think about it this way. There is no point in winning this battle. You lose either way, even if you win. If you lose, you don’t care because you’re already dead, but what if you win? You carry the burden of having killed dozens of innocent people. _Friends_. How can you go on living then? You will be traumatized for the rest of your life. I think in this case it’s just better to find a quick ending. There is no honor to gain. The price you’re paying for winning is too high,” Minho elaborated in earnest, surprising Taemin with how much thought he’d put into this hypothetical scenario. 

Taemin hummed, not knowing what to say, not having expected to have conversations about morals in his small dorm room. 

“A _hm_ is all I’m getting here?” Minho’s voice had taken on a lighter tone, one of his feet poking Taemin’s. 

“I just don’t know what to respond to that. But you’re right. It might be easier to end it quickly instead of trying to hold on.”

Nine other students died before Minho addressed Taemin again, who had leaned forward to place his empty beer can on the desk. He was back in the pleasant woozy state when life looked a tiny bit brighter and his worries seemed a tiny bit smaller, insignificant in the grand picture. 

“You know, after that time I slept in your bed, I always wished to sleep in it again.”

“You won’t, though,” Taemin replied, reaching for the water bottle on the floor next to his bed to take a sip.

“Why? Because you don’t want to or because you’re afraid something might happen?”

Holding the water bottle in both hands, Taemin eyed the other’s face, tinted bluish by the light from the laptop screen. “What should I be afraid of happening?”

“Oh, well, I could imagine one or two things.” The corner of Minho’s lips twitched slightly, curving to a grin.

“Dream on.” 

“You know, you would have been better off trying out that whole friends with benefits thing with me, just saying,” Minho said. “Jonghyun does - _feel_ too much.”

Taemin snorted. “And you don’t _feel_?” 

“Do you see me being head over heels for Kibum? I can separate better between love and sex. Let’s say - I understand the basic concept of friends with benefits; Jonghyun, on the other hand - _doesn't_.” 

Shaking his head, Taemin looked back at the screen as gunshots were fired, another person falling to the ground. 

“There is no point talking about it,” Taemin muttered, taking a big gulp of water and holding it in his cheeks before he swallowed it. “Jonghyun is quite sure about his feelings, probably skidding around on his knees with his mouth open right now. I’m the one feeling things too deeply.” 

“So he slept with someone else? Is that it? Is that why you left the Garden of Eden? Was he seduced by a serpent?” Minho pressed on, the chips bag crinkling as his hand slid into it. 

“I guess he did.”

“You _guess_?” Minho followed up, Taemin slowly but surely losing his patience. He didn’t want to talk about Jonghyun. The whole point of inviting Minho over to watch a movie was to prevent him from thinking about Jonghyun for at least two hours. 

“It’s not about that. Let’s just forget about it. I don’t want to talk about him – _really_ ,” Taemin said pointedly and turned back to focus on the movie. 

“Okay, then.”

Shot by a gun, beaten to death with a metal bat, poisoned, _shot, shot, shot_ , more and more students died until there were only two left – a boy and a girl, who tried to escape from the island with the help of someone. Minho and Taemin were left with an open ending, the two protagonists running towards Shibuya station in Tokyo, fleeing from the police who accused them of murder. When the credits rolled over the screen, a hip hop number accompanied by a light guitar melody sounded through the speakers, changing the atmosphere of the movie by 180°. 

“Certainly a ride,” Minho commented with a yawn and stretched his arms above his head. “I love Takeshi Kitano. Such a great actor.”

Taemin nodded in agreement and closed the tab, his computer background popping up: a beach at night with the full moon high up in the sky. 

“We should go and watch a movie on the big screen some time.”

“Yeah, sometime, maybe,” Taemin agreed.

“How about tomorrow?” 

Taemin halted in moving the mouse cursor over the screen and looked over his shoulder. 

“Just the two of us?” he questioned.

“Yeah? If you are uncomfortable with that, maybe Jinki will want to tag along as well. I can ask him.” 

“Do that,” Taemin said and shut down his laptop. “I don’t even know what they’re showing in theaters at the moment.” 

When Taemin settled back down next to Minho, the other typed a message on his phone, a quick look at the display telling him that Minho wasn’t someone to put things on hold, but was going through with his plans by contacting their flat-mate right away.

“I think he’s working overtime tonight, so he might not reply immediately.”

“What is he doing, exactly?” Taemin asked, feeling dumb and self-centered for not knowing what one of his fellow flat-mates was doing in addition to his studies, even though he had been living with him for half a year. 

A soft chuckle turned Taemin’s cheeks warm and he pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, fingers playing with the cuffs. 

“Are you asking me what Jinki is doing for a living? Are you for real?” Minho laughed, falling silent when Taemin didn’t laugh along with him. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Taemin shook his head.

“But you can probably tell me what Jonghyun did on December 3rd in 2015,” Minho teased him. Taemin wanted to tell him that he had no idea what the other had been up to on that day, but that Jonghyun had most likely been crawling through mud in a military uniform. “He’s in his last Master semester and wants to start his Ph.D. in winter. He works as a research assistant at university and needs to prepare classes for freshmen he’s going to teach in summer.”

Taemin was impressed but felt even worse for not knowing what Jinki was doing when he wasn’t raiding the cupboards in their kitchen. 

“So – he’s really old?” he questioned carefully, earning more laughter.

“Don’t tell him that. He turned 26 in December, but we treat his birthday as a state secret and don't celebrate it. So don’t tell him I told you.” 

There was a seven-year age gap between him and the oldest one in their apartment. Taemin remembered kissing him and felt incredibly embarrassed all of a sudden. He should have talked more formally to their senior and not shoved his tongue into the other’s mouth. Wasn’t that incredibly disrespectful? 

“Why is he still living in a dormitory? Wouldn’t he be more comfortable living by himself, considering that new people constantly move in?” 

“Have you checked the apartment market? It’s too expensive and he doesn’t want to live in a shoebox. He likes coming home and being around people he isn’t working with,” Minho said. “I’m glad he’s still here. He’s the only sane person in this apartment. At least, it feels like that to me most of the time.” 

“I guess you’re right about that,” Taemin agreed with him, ears pricking up at the sound of the apartment door being opened and soon falling shut again. He wondered if Kibum had come back, or Jinki, or _Jonghyun_ , the latter option making his heart clench. 

“Alright, I’ll head to bed,” Minho yawned and got up from the bed to head over to the door. “Good night,” he added as he pushed down the door handle. “Oh, just in case you forgot: I’m majoring in history.”

The smile on Minho’s face was wide and impish and Taemin rolled his eyes at him, showing him his middle finger as a form of non-verbal cuss, making the older one laugh. “I’m sure I still can teach you quite a lot, Taemin,” were the last words leaving his mouth as he opened the door and stepped outside, a surprised sound falling from his lips seconds later, followed by an “Oh, hey, Jonghyun.”

The mention of the other’s name made Taemin jump up from the bed immediately, as if he was afraid Jonghyun would barge in the next second and accuse him of sleeping with Minho. He didn’t understand his own reaction, considering that Jonghyun had indirectly pushed him into the other’s arms with the words he had used in the past – _or rather, had not used_. 

No words were being spoken outside of Taemin’s door, and all that was left for him to witness was the sound of the other’s bedroom door falling into its lock, his heart heavy and aching. As he sat back down on his bed and looked at the empty cans of beer on his desk, he noticed how his view turned blurry and an invisible hand squeezed his throat.

“Not now,” he told himself and closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose to keep tears from welling up. What did he need to do to make it hurt less? What did he need to do to make his feelings disappear? There had to be a solution out there – _somewhere_ , an easy fix to make his heart go numb. 

* * *

Taemin started from his sleep after a night filled with lucid dreams. Jonghyun had left him in the last of them, not him as a person, but as a flat-mate. He had graduated and had moved out the next day, hugging everyone except for Taemin, talking to everyone except for Taemin, who had stayed muted in a corner of the kitchen with a cereal bowl in his hands. What he had thought were chocolate crispies had turned out to be maggots on closer inspection, and he woke up when the bowl crashed to the floor, milk and maggots covering his feet, the porcelain shattered into pieces, and all his flat-mates laughing around him, Jonghyun’s laughter being the loudest.

His heart hammered violently in his chest even after several minutes of being awake, and Taemin ran his hands through his shaggy hair, trying to clear his head. Jonghyun hadn’t left; he was still there. _He wouldn’t graduate for the next half-year,_ he told himself over and over again until he eventually calmed down. 

First, Taemin went to the toilet before he rummaged hectically through his wardrobe and picked up the Bible his mother had packed for him, which had been left in a box ever since he moved into the dormitory. After that atrocious dream, he felt like he needed to look for comfort in scriptures that had never failed to give him strength. Armed with the holy book, he wandered to the kitchen for some breakfast, expecting to see Minho hovering over his books, but was surprised and flustered when he found Jonghyun instead, seated with a cup of coffee in his hands. Taemin wanted to turn on the spot, fingers clutching the book against his chest, feet about to retreat to his room when a voice held him back.

“You don’t have to run away every time you see me. There are five chairs at the kitchen table,” Jonghyun said, making Taemin’s breath falter. The child in him wanted to cry and leave without a word, but the other was right; they couldn’t ignore each other for the rest of their lives.

With an uncertain nod, Taemin walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl and cereal, making sure that the box was filled with chocolate flakes and not with maggots. He felt the other’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head as he poured himself some coffee and added milk and sugar before he shuffled over to the kitchen table, not sitting down next to Jonghyun like he usually did, but taking the chair furthest away from him. Taemin didn’t say anything but flipped the Bible open and tried to focus on the text instead, his ears picking up the unnerving sound of Jonghyun tapping his fingertips against his coffee cup. 

“I think the last time I held a Bible in my hands was when I was fifteen.”

Taemin licked his lips, eyes hovering over the words, ‘ _So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’_ It was almost ironic how much Taemin craved strength and yet felt so weak. He remained silent, not even looking up at the other’s remark, fingers holding firmly onto the spoon as he ate some cereal. Just because they were sitting at the same table didn’t mean that they needed to talk to each other. 

“How come you are reading the Bible in the morning?”

While Jonghyun’s previous statement had been easy to leave uncommented, not answering a question was far more obvious, so Taemin sighed and flipped a page as he muttered, “I’m looking for something.”

He didn’t know for what, though: _answers, solutions, help, absolution_? 

“Something you’ll find in a Bible?”

Taemin wanted to ask why Jonghyun was suddenly talking to him again and why his first words weren’t an apology, but a _stupid_ question about a _stupid_ book. How could he act like nothing had happened, as if both of them had simply been on a journey the past few days and were now back home again? 

“What did you do yesterday?”

Taemin wanted to huff at the question but stifled it and took another spoonful of cereal. What did the other care? Was it important what he had done? Nothing seemed important without Jonghyun being there to do it with him. 

“I went to watch Minho play soccer with a few friends. We went out to eat after that and ended up watching a movie together,” he summarized and flipped another book page.

“What movie?”

“ _Battle Royale_.”

A hum. “And that’s all?”

Taemin swallowed and looked up to frown. “ _And that’s all?_ ” he repeated and let his spoon sink into the bowl. What was that question supposed to mean? Was Jonghyun assuming things that weren’t there? Did he assume Taemin was a shitty person just because Jonghyun was one? “What else _should_ there be? Do you think we fucked while high-school students got murdered in the background?”

There was a vein twitching unnervingly in his neck, frustration bubbling up inside of him again. Why did every single one of their conversations end up like this – with frustration, rage, and disappointment? Why was everything Jonghyun said these days something that pissed him off?

“That’s not what I said.” 

Standing up from his chair now, Taemin grabbed his Bible. “But you implied it. I shouldn’t have sat down,” he grumbled. “What did _you_ do, then? Have fun with some dicks in your mouth?” Taemin pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, made obvious hand gestures with his free hand, and didn’t leave Jonghyun an opportunity to answer as he marched back to his room immediately and slammed the door shut behind him, his heart racing in his chest. 

There was no way there would ever be a chance of them talking normally to each other again. Taemin couldn’t help it, his mind cluttered with stories Jonghyun had told him. How could Jonghyun even dare to assume that Taemin had slept with someone else when _he_ was the one ogling at people left and right? Did he do it because he expected everyone to be as immoral as he was?

But the worst thing of all was that, no matter how angry and frustrated Taemin was, the only thing he wanted to do deep down was hug Jonghyun and never let go of him again. It was a _clusterfuck_ of emotions and Taemin had no idea how to get out of it again. Two invisible forces were pulling at him, one dragging him away from Jonghyun and the other desperately trying to pull him closer again. 

* * *

“I hope you don’t mind it too much that you have to make do with just me now.” Minho grinned at Taemin as they waited in front of the cinema hall, both carrying Cokes and bags of popcorn in their hands. Taemin had insisted on paying for _his own_ ticket and _his own_ food, in case Minho wanted to make their evening together look like some kind of date after Jinki had canceled on them because he was too busy preparing for the upcoming semester.

“Could be worse,” Taemin replied in a joking manner and looked around, a lot of teenagers gathering to watch the movie _Logan_ , Marvel’s newest superhero release. 

“You’re such a charmer.” 

Taemin grinned at Minho and grabbed a few pieces of popcorn from his bag, liking how the little sugary white clouds melted on his tongue. He had been in a bad mood for the majority of the day after his short but impressionable conversation with Jonghyun in the morning, but when Minho had reminded him of his proposal from the previous night, he had taken the chance and browsed through recent movie releases, finding action movies a nice way to cope with his feelings – or, more likely, bury them underneath flying fists, cool CGI, and a lot of blood. 

They found their seats in the middle of the theater, the rows quickly filling up, noisy teenagers throwing popcorn around. Taemin wanted to throw some back and yell at them, but he reminded himself that it hadn’t been too long since he had been sitting on the other side – and had been the noisy teenager. 

“Should we grab some pizza after the movie?” Minho leaned closer, Taemin breathing in the scent of his deodorant. Minho didn’t use cologne as Jonghyun did; his fragrance was more subtle, pleasant but unremarkable.

Is that what Minho was to him? _Pleasant but unremarkable_? Taemin always had an easy time imagining himself in a relationship with Jonghyun, coming up with the wildest but also the sweetest scenarios, but no matter how hard he tried to do the same with Minho, it didn’t work: his mind stayed a blank canvas, his fantasy failing him, not even letting him envision something as simple as a kiss. 

“Sure. Late-night junk food is the best kind of junk food,” he clarified, eyes turning to the screen when the lights turned dark.

For some reason, Taemin expected Minho to place a hand on his thigh or an arm around his shoulder during the movie, something to draw his attention away from the plot, but the older one kept his hands to himself, only occasionally coming closer to whisper his predictions for potential plot twists into his ear. Taemin didn’t mind that, countering with a few of his own, the scent of Minho’s deodorant becoming stronger as Taemin’s lips almost touched his ear. 

After the movie had ended, Minho spent their journey to the nearest Domino’s pretending to be Wolverine, slashing his way through the crowd with imaginary blades coming from the back of his hands, Taemin pretending not to know him when he bumped into a young couple during his one-man show. Welcomed by a big sign placed outside of the store that told them there was a 4000₩ discount on a combination of pizza and beer, they wandered inside and checked the menu, a smiling Gong Yoo biting into a slice of pizza portrayed next to it, diminishing Taemin’s appetite. He was nowhere safe from being reminded of Jonghyun, not even in the store of a fast-food chain. 

While Minho chose a Korean sweet potato pizza, Taemin went with a simple pepperoni one, both grabbing their cans of _CASS_ beer and an electronic beeper to tell them when their orders were ready before they looked for an empty table. They ended up on the second floor of the restaurant and settled down next to a window, Taemin seeing his reflection when he tried to look at the street outside. 

“What’s a superpower you would want to have?” Minho asked him after they had clinked their cans of beer and taken the first sip. 

Taemin gave this question a moment of thought, fingers holding onto the icy beer can; hot chocolate probably a better choice to warm up his fingers. It wasn’t like he hadn’t wasted a lot of time thinking about this question in the past, but the older he got, the more often his choice changed.

“The ability to travel in time, I guess,” he said eventually and ran his thumb over the rim of the beer can. 

“What would you change?” Minho probed immediately.

“A lot.”

“I think it’s one of the most dangerous superpowers to have. You could fuck up so many things. I mean, you could stop wars from happening, the atomic bombs from falling –”

“Just for personal use. I don’t want to save the world,” Taemin cut in and drank some more beer, considering going back to September as his first usage of the power. 

“Isn’t that selfish, though? If you know that you can make the world a better place and yet you refuse to do it?” the older one gave to consider.

Taemin’s eyes wandered over to a couple sitting at the table next to them. He only saw the girl facing her boyfriend, the two of them holding hands, the girl laughing cutely at something the other had said. If only his life could be this easy. 

“You just said it’s one of the most dangerous abilities to have. Isn’t it better if I only use it for myself, then?” Taemin looked back at Minho, who licked his lips with knitted brows.

“If you don’t think about what you want to change, I guess. If you prepare for it, it can be a powerful weapon,” Minho said, but then paused, expression turning thoughtful. “But maybe it’s right the way things are, no matter how much we want to change them. Maybe there is a reason for everything after all, and trying to change it would make it just worse.” 

“What would yours be?” Taemin wanted to know.

“My superpower?” Minho inquired. “I think I would like to be able to fly.” 

“Flying is always a safe choice. Saves travel expenses as well.”

This comment made Minho laugh and Taemin smiled at him, his knee twitching underneath the table. Flying was such a popular answer to give. Jonghyun would probably have taken telepathy, the most powerful superpower in Taemin’s eyes. 

“Thoughts on telepathy?” Taemin asked next, curious to know what Minho’s thoughts on manipulating other people’s minds were. 

“Like Professor Xavier?”

Taemin nodded.

“I’m not sure,” Minho began. “I don’t like the thought of fucking with people’s minds. Sure, if you are seeing someone it might be interesting to know if they have any interest in you, but apart from that? I think I would be too tempted to abuse this power. So it’s better to stick with flying. Just look at Xavier. He has probably done far more damage to people’s brains than most supervillains.” Minho stared at the can of beer in his hands for a moment before he looked up with a smile again. “We humans are too weak for such a superpower. We wouldn’t be the one controlling it, but the ones getting controlled. I don’t like that.” 

“That answer is much more profound than I expected it to be,” Taemin admitted, the buzzer on their table going off.

Minho got up with a wink and reached out for the device. “I’ll get the pizzas.” 

The older one was gone before Taemin had a chance to protest, left alone with his beer and the couple sitting nearby. In the past, he hadn’t been one to show affection in public, finding it embarrassing most of the time, but now he missed it, craved it, wondered if he would ever get to experience it again.

Minho came back rather quickly, balancing a tray on each hand, Taemin getting up to help him as soon as he saw him coming back up the stairs. 

“Thanks,” he said when Taemin took the tray with the sweet potato pizza and placed it on the table. 

The pizza was delicious, a beautiful greasy mixture of fluffy dough, smoky pepperoni, and melted cheese that covered Taemin’s hands and lips in oil. 

“Gosh, that’s so good,” he moaned around a slice and bit off another piece. “Eating is almost as good as sex, and I don’t believe anyone who says otherwise.”

Minho reached for a napkin with a chuckle, dabbing grease from his own mouth. “ _Almost_ as good? Doesn’t sound like you had a lot of good sex in the past, if fast food can compete with it.”

Taemin pulled a face and took another bite, chewing the dough thoroughly before swallowing it. It was typical for Minho to take the first opportunity presented to try and make fun of Jonghyun. 

“I have no complaints.” Taemin tried to keep it short as he saw no point in discussing his sex life with Minho, of all people. He washed down the pizza slice with a few sips of beer, furrowing his brows when Minho looked at him with a grin.

“What is it?”

The grin on Minho’s face widened. “I just wondered if you and Jonghyun ever incorporated food into whatever you did behind closed doors. Would probably be the ultimate experience for you.” 

Taemin couldn’t help his cheeks and neck and ears from turning hot as he tried not to think of food play in the bedroom, as it hadn’t been something that had ever crossed his mind before now. The clean-up afterward seemed too much of a hassle in comparison to what he might get out of it in forms of pleasure. 

“Sounds like a dirty endeavor,” he said and picked up his third slice of pizza with both hands, leading the pointed tip to his mouth.

“Taemin, that’s the whole point.” 

Minho ate his pizza with a fork and knife, looking far more sophisticated than Taemin, who slouched in his chair in ripped jeans, cheeks filled with pizza. 

“What’s the wildest thing you’ve tried out with him?”

Taemin stopped eating immediately, pizza in his hands, his eyes searching for Minho’s. “That’s none of your business.”

He felt a slight prodding underneath the table – Minho’s shoe. “You’re no fun. What’s the craziest thing you did with your girlfriends, then?”

The older one’s persistence was admirable, Taemin snorting as he took another bite. He had never done anything even remotely crazy with a girlfriend, not even changing surfaces from the mattress to the floor or a chair. Getting his first girlfriend, with whom he had been sexually active, to sit on top of him had already been the achievement of a lifetime. In the end, she had enjoyed it and it had become her favorite position, but convincing her of maybe changing positions and trying it out after Taemin had read that it was easier for some women to come if they were on top had taken weeks of subtle persuasion. 

“That’s not something a gentleman talks about,” he said and reached for his can of beer to empty it. 

“So you consider yourself a gentleman, but tell your friends from university how you have some hot arrangement and get to stick your dick into some nice lady without any strings attached?” 

Almost choking on his beer, Taemin grabbed for a napkin and coughed into it, looking at Minho reproachfully. 

“That’s different,” he murmured into the white paper, Minho cocking an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“What name did you give him in front of them? Junghee? Jongmi? _Mhh_?”

“It’s –” Taemin started with a strained voice, his heart beginning to beat more quickly. “It’s not like that. I - _I_ didn’t give any details. I just had these marks,” he reached out to touch his neck; the hickeys were almost gone, “so they just assumed that I must have someone, and I – _I_ didn’t know how they would react if they found out that the woman was a man, so I just went along with what they said.”

“Taemin-ah,” Minho said mildly. “It’s okay. I get that.”

The tension in Taemin’s body slowly dissolved and he placed the napkin on his tray, staring at his pizza. 

“Not everyone is as comfortable with their sexuality as Kibum and Jonghyun are. You need a pretty thick skin for that, you know? I hang out with Kibum quite often and the stuff people throw at him from time to time when he happens to flirt with a guy is _disgusting_. It makes you wonder who raised those assholes to have such dirty mouths. But Kibum laughs at them and flips them off. It’s probably something he had to learn over the years, but he has all my respect for being the open person he is because I’m not like that – _at all_.” 

“One of the first things you asked me after hanging out was if I’d ever hooked up with a guy. Sounds pretty open to me,” Taemin said, distrusting the truth of Minho’s words, as the other began to chuckle and cut off another piece of pizza. 

“If you think I do that with every person I meet, then you are wrong. I asked you because you seemed like a chill dude who doesn’t judge people based on their sexual preferences. I wasn’t wrong, was I?” 

Taemin shook his head. “However, you still seem pretty open about liking to sleep with guys.” 

“Because I’m comfortable with you guys. I wouldn’t pick up a guy if I went out with my soccer friends. Also, have you ever seen me bring a guy to the dorm other than Kibum? If I hook up with a guy we go to a motel, while I bring girls to the dorm or go to their place. It’s different,” Minho argued, gesticulating around with his fork and knife while he chewed on his piece of pizza.

Taemin was surprised to learn so many new things about his flat-mate. Sometimes he felt bad for having spent as much time as he had with Jonghyun, oftentimes forgetting that the two of them weren’t alone but shared an apartment with three other individuals, every one of them having their own life – and their own problems to deal with. 

“Why? Are you embarrassed over liking guys?” Taemin probed.

Minho shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I just don’t like the thought of people treating me differently when they find out. It’s happened in the past. A girl even broke up with me after finding out that I’d slept with guys before. This society we’re living in – it’s not there yet. You know what I mean, right?” 

The other’s words got Taemin to think, made him wonder about his position, about his feelings. By constantly hanging out with Jonghyun, he had only been confronted by someone being in line with his sexuality and unafraid of expressing it; therefore, seeing someone else’s view was rather eye-opening. There were different ways of living out one’s life, after all, and Taemin wondered which one he would choose in the end.

“What if you fall in love with a guy and want to be with him? Are you going to hide in motels as well?” Taemin wanted to know.

“That hasn’t happened yet, so I haven’t given it much thought, but no, I probably wouldn’t want to hide with him in a motel. But I wouldn’t walk around Gwanak district holding hands with him either,” Minho answered with a soft smile. 

“What about me, then?” After all the comments Minho had made towards him in the past few months, Taemin couldn’t help but ask. 

Minho began to snicker. “You don’t want me, no? You know that I find you cute and _very_ attractive, but it takes time to develop deeper feelings for someone. At least for me, it does.”

“But you told me you liked me,” Taemin followed up, wanting to know if everything Minho had told him had been for show; shallow words to get him into bed.

“The spectrum between liking someone and loving someone is very big, Taemin,” Minho explained. “I’m 21 now – and I can say with certainty that I was only in love once. _With a girl_.”

“High-school sweetheart?” Taemin wondered, feeling stuffed with the slices of pizza he had already eaten, doubting that he could finish the whole thing. 

“Bingo.”

“Why did you two break up?” 

“Distance. She went off to Oxford to study business economics and I stayed here. We tried to make it work, but it’s kind of hard to stay loyal with all those hot people running around campus,” Minho explained and placed his fork and knife down on his tray before emptying his beer, shaking it afterward. “Want another one?” 

“Yeah, but I’ll get them.” Taemin was quicker this time and walked down the stairs to buy new beers and ask for a box for the rest of his pizza. The cans that were handed to him felt cold in his hands as a young woman behind the counter told him that they would be closing in ten minutes. 

“We should get going. They are closing at 10 pm,” he said when he came back upstairs, carrying the pizza box underneath his right arm. Taemin placed his pizza as well as the rest of Minho’s into the box, not wanting to waste any food, and the two put their jackets back on, leaving the warmth of Domino’s to face the coldness of Seoul. 

“Thanks for tonight. I think I got to know you a bit better,” Taemin said as they entered their dormitory building a while later, the lights in the hallway turning on one by one.

“I wish I could say the same. But you don’t really like to talk about yourself,” Minho smiled at him.

The door to the lounge was open, with a small gathering of people from units on floor five hanging around inside, and both Minho and Taemin waved shortly at their dormitory neighbors before they headed for the stairs. The light in their apartment was turned on when they entered a minute later, Taemin curiously looking around the corner only to recoil the second he saw Jonghyun with his laptop at the kitchen table, Kibum sitting on top of the table next to him. 

“Hey stranger, you’re still alive,” Minho called out when he discovered Kibum, and Taemin wondered if he could hide behind Minho’s back and discreetly sneak off to his room without being faced by either of his flat-mates. 

“I told you I wanted to visit my parents for a few days before flying to Japan,” Kibum retorted, the obnoxious pitch of his voice drilling itself into Taemin’s eardrums. He had no idea Kibum had been gone at all the past few days but was still sad that he was back already, sitting next to Jonghyun like they were best friends. 

“You know I always miss you when you’re not here,” Minho sweet-talked Kibum as he went over to the table. Taemin continued to hide in the entrance, not wanting to enter the kitchen, taking his time removing his shoes, unlacing them one by one instead of just slipping out of them as he usually did. 

“Suck-up,” Kibum quipped, and Taemin heard a chair being pulled back. “Beer and a pizza box? Where have you been?”

Taemin looked at his shoes in disappointment after he had placed them next to the door, wondering what else he could do to avoid seeing Jonghyun – _and Kibum_. 

“Taemin and I went to watch _Logan_ in theaters and had some pizza at Domino’s. Does anyone want a sweet potato slice?” 

“Taemin is here?” Kibum asked in what sounded like mild surprise. 

Taemin shut his eyes tightly in response, muttering, “Yeah, I’m still taking off my shoes,” wanting to hit himself as soon as this lame excuse had left his mouth.

With his poor cover blown, he forced his feet to move over to the kitchen, three pairs of eyes landing on him, one neutral, one with a smile in them, and one that made everything in Taemin want to run away and hide in his room, his fingers clasping around his beer can. There were shimmering silvery piercings in Jonghyun’s ears that hadn’t been there in the morning, and Taemin swallowed when the thought crossed his mind that Jonghyun would probably have asked him to tag along if the situation had been a different one – if their conversation in the morning had turned out differently. Piercing his ears seemed like a little downgrade though, considering that he had started big with piercing one of his nipples first. 

“Hey,” Kibum said with a smile, Taemin not sure whether it was genuine or fake. He could never tell with Kibum. “Was the movie good?”

“Yeah, I think it was one of the better X-Men movies,” Minho replied and opened the pizza box to take out a cold slice of sweet potato pizza. 

“It was good,” Taemin agreed shyly, eyes instantly falling on Jonghyun when the other shut the lid of the laptop and got up from the chair. 

“I’ll go to bed. ‘Night,” he said at no one in particular and left for his room, Minho and Kibum simultaneously wishing him a ‘good night’ while Taemin stayed mute, looked after him, and wished for nothing more than his feet to follow Jonghyun, so he could hug him from behind and tell him that he missed him. 

He stared at Jonghyun’s bedroom door for several seconds and only looked back at Kibum and Minho when the latter addressed him. 

“ _Yes_?” he asked, confused, having only heard his name but not what the other had said.

“I just said we should do this more often.” 

Taemin gave a short nod and coerced a smile out of himself when the older sent him one. 

Kibum spoke next, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he looked between Minho and Taemin. “Just a quick question so I’m up to date with everyone here. No puppy love with Jonghyun anymore? Instead, Minho and you are –”

“No,” Taemin interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. 

“Sensitive topic, don’t ask,” Minho whistled from the side. “We just watched a movie instead of playing basketball. No heat in-between the sheets, just friends hanging out.” 

“ _Sensitive topic_? Ah, you know how to get me interested in things,” Kibum answered with a little whine and leaned over the table to get one of the sweet potato slices. 

“You can also eat the pepperoni one, if you want to,” Taemin tried in good faith, inwardly hoping that pizza talk would lead them away from Jonghyun talk. 

“I usually try to avoid eating after 8 pm. Don’t tempt me to eat even more junk,” came Kibum’s swift reply, said with a humorous touch but leaving Taemin with nothing to say.

He rarely knew what to say to Kibum and didn’t know if this was his own doing or Kibum’s. Minho had no trouble talking to him at all, always finding something to say, even if they just bickered at each other. Taemin wasn’t like that. If the base was missing, there was nothing to build on, and the base he had created with Kibum after moving in, which had consisted of the other sharing his food with him, had been destroyed the second Taemin had realized two things: one, that he was in love with Jonghyun, and two, that Jonghyun was in love with Kibum. A lot had changed since then, and Taemin had no idea what Jonghyun’s feelings toward the other looked like now, but Taemin hadn’t managed to rebuild their base, accepting the fact that Kibum and he would swing back and forth between ‘ _Hellos_ and ‘ _Goodbyes’_ until one of them moved out. Maybe he was missing out on getting to know a great person, maybe he was missing out on building a friendship that would last a lifetime, but whenever he looked at Kibum he felt bitter and petty, projecting everything that went wrong between Jonghyun and himself onto their flat-mate. 

“I’ll be heading to bed as well,” Taemin motioned in the general direction of his room and wished both of his flat-mates a good night. He needed to rest and digest the events of the day.

He had just taken off his jacket after a short visit to the toilet when his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

_‘Taemin-ah, sleep tight. I told you before, he’s not worth being upset about. You find guys like him by the dozen lingering around libraries and grungy underground clubs_ 😉 _’_

 _‘until you find another Jonghyun or Junghee_ 😉 _I’m sure I’m capable of taking your mind off things - without strings attached - without all that annoying ‘shebang’. Promise.’_

Taemin stared at Minho’s messages for a while as he sat down on his bed, still dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, and weirdly enough, he was tempted to fall for Minho’s blunt approach for the first time since his original Jonghyun neutralization project. Back then he had been convinced that sleeping with Minho would help him to forget about Jonghyun, and although a part of him knew that feelings didn’t work like that, another part clung desperately to the tiniest hope that it would help to overcome any lingering feelings for his flat-mate. Minho had been more than clear about his feelings tonight, meaning that there wasn’t the danger of anyone falling in love and getting their heart broken in the process. But even if there weren’t any hearts at stake, sex changed things, whether Taemin wanted that or not. It had changed things with Jonghyun.

He fell back on his bed and looked at the ceiling, listening to Minho’s and Kibum’s voices coming through from the kitchen. They didn’t talk about anything interesting, just about what Kibum had done at his parents’ place and what he had planned for his upcoming trip to Japan. Taemin tried to focus on any sound coming from Jonghyun’s room, but there were none. With a sigh, he exited his KakaoTalk chat window with Minho and opened the one he had with Jonghyun. 

Jonghyun’s last text was days old now, asking where he was and telling him that he was worried, Taemin so fed up with him that night that he had left him on _read_ and had muted his phone. He scrolled through their message history absentmindedly, his thumb stopping each time his eyes caught on specific phrases. ‘ _I really want to kiss you right now, but I’m stuck in the library till 5 pm_ 😭’ or ‘ _I like it when you send me photos of your butt. Makes me want to pamper it so bad_ 🙈’. 

Taemin had asked him in response what he meant by _‘pamper’_ and Jonghyun had gone out of his way to write a long essay about the exact definition. Taemin’s insides curled as he reread the message now, the feeling disappearing the second he recalled that Jonghyun wasn’t at the library and wouldn’t come to his room to spend hours fooling around with him, but instead was in the room right next door, ignoring Taemin’s existence.

He turned over onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, half-hard dick pressing uncomfortably against the mattress, a frustrated whine leaving his lips as he realized that even reading a simple message made him want to storm into Jonghyun’s room and fall on his knees in front of him. There was no point in doing that, though; Taemin knew that. He couldn’t repeat the same mistakes over and over again in the hope that the outcome would be different one day. 

His phone vibrated in his hand, and when he turned his head to look at the screen, another message from Minho had popped up.

_‘Leaving me on read. Ouch.’_

Turning onto his back and tucking strands of hair behind his ear, he looked at the preceding message, wondering what he should reply. Was Minho the key out or would he only open the door to another level of hell? 

_‘I want those feelings to disappear,’_ he typed eventually, taking a deep breath when he saw the other writing a response.

_‘I can help with that.’_

Taemin bit his lip and sat up, repeating the words in his head. _‘I can help with that.’_ Taemin doubted it. 

With a flick of his thumb, he was in the picture folder with photos of Jonghyun, the last one he had added showing the other with his shirt off, lying on Taemin’s bed, smiling brightly while hiding his eyes behind both hands in embarrassment. Taemin had been sitting on top of him, his thighs showing in the picture as well, and although he couldn’t remember the exact context, he was quite sure that he had given Jonghyun a compliment for something. He was tempted to zoom in on the piercing but zoomed in on Jonghyun’s smile instead, heart aching as it had been a long time since he had seen such a genuine smile on the other’s face. 

Love sucked. _Big time_.

_Big, big time..._

* * *

For the next two weeks, Taemin plunged into work to distract himself from feeling anything at all. He started studying for his exams in a group together with Dusung and some other guys from his year, took every opportunity to flee the dorm and not see Jonghyun, took every chance to dull his brain with things that didn’t remind him of the other. The downside to this was that Taemin drank too much with his friends after they were done with studying for the day and most drinking bouts were accompanied by a cigarette or two, this newly found pastime leading him to buy his first pack of cigarettes, so he didn’t need to scrounge them from his classmates. 

He saved the passcode to their unit in his phone, in case he got too drunk to remember it, to avoid having to contact Jonghyun or any of his other flat-mates to open the door for him, and he suffered from terrible hangovers every other day. Taemin knew that the only reason he was drinking so much was because he was trying to forget Jonghyun, and it worked as long as he was in that pleasant, tipsy state, but whenever he woke up again, the memories of Jonghyun trying to comfort him came flooding back, making it harder for him to get out of bed and not drown in self-pity. 

In the second week of March, he hit rock bottom, as he agreed to join Minho and Jinki for a night out at the club he had only seen glimpses of before he had gone home with Jonghyun. This time there wasn’t a Jonghyun to carry him off to the toilet and suck him off, no Jonghyun to press close to him on the dance floor and seduce him with his voice. Taemin was so caught up in self-pity that he didn’t care much about anything or anyone anymore, trapped in his little bubble. 

Going clubbing was liberating in a way, and getting drunk even more so. Taemin downed one drink after another, starting with beer and then taking a few shots of soju with Jinki. He wanted to forget, _needed to forget_ Jonghyun; he didn’t want to think about all the guys Jonghyun had potentially slept with and Taemin had nothing on, didn’t want to think about Jonghyun spending his time with someone else. Jonghyun’s room had been dark when Taemin left the apartment with Jinki and Minho, and he had no idea when the other had last been in it, days passing by in a blur, having lost complete sense of space and time. 

He switched between dancing and drinking, sometimes doing both at the same time, sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead and nape, warm bodies pressing against him from all sides. He had lost Jinki and Minho in the crowd sometime between his fourth and fifth drink and danced all by himself, tuning out everyone around him, faces a fuzzy mix of colors and motions; fresh sweat, heavy perfume, and alcohol plugging his nose. As he moved around to the beat of the music with his eyes shut, images of Jonghyun leading him to the toilets popped up, and Taemin tried to shake them off, drinking more alcohol; Jonghyun’s eyes big and round as they had looked up at him, plush lips wrapped around his cock. 

Consuming beer like water, Taemin began to crave cigarettes, his brain associating the hoppy taste of the liquid with the cigarettes’ tarry one and his feet soon guiding him outside to light one up, the first drag a long and deep one, his mind instantly going fuzzy. The feeling was too good: the moment of lightheadedness that overcame him, stress and tension magically vanishing from his body as if they had been exorcised, his empty nicotine balance quickly filling up again. With a satisfied smile, he braced himself against the rusty red brick wall with his back, listening to the steady buzzing of the neon sign to his left that advertised a 24h open fast-food restaurant. There were quite a few people outside to have a smoke, including a group of young women in short skirts huddled up together in a circle, taking selfies and checking their make-up while two of them had a cigarette. 

One of them looked cute, wearing a tight-fitting short black dress with a leather jacket on top, neither of the items made to keep her warm, legs shaking in a pair of enormous high heels as she checked her bangs in the front camera of her phone. She was someone Taemin would definitely take home if it wasn’t for him not approaching people on his own. So he only watched from a safe distance as he smoked his cigarette, thinking about all the pick-up lines he knew but would never use. He had trouble standing straight, almost toppling over twice as he tried to move away from the wall, free hand looking for safety as he pressed his palm flatly against the brick behind him. 

“Man, here you are. We’ve been worried.” A familiar voice pulled him out of his inner monologue of _‘Hey, I lost my phone number. Can I have yours?_ ’ and ‘ _If I bit my lip would you kiss it better?_ ’, Taemin averting his eyes from the girl to look at Minho and Jinki.

“Sorry, craved a cigarette,” Taemin answered them and took another puff, pushing himself off the wall only to tumble back right away when he got dizzy.

“You smoke?” Jinki asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Taemin shrugged. “Occasionally.” 

“Since when?” Jinki wanted to know and Taemin flung the cigarette to the ground and put it out with the sole of his sneaker. He’d had that conversation with Minho before and didn’t want to have it again. 

“ _Dunno_ \- some of my classmates do, so I wanted to try,” he explained, his eyes following the group of women going back inside the club, looking after the cute one with the short black dress. She hadn't even glanced at him.

“That’s a nasty habit. It fucks up your lungs, Taemin.”

There it was: the ever-so-lovely patronizing tone in his flat-mates’ voices, something Taemin was incredibly fed up with. No one needed to tell him that cigarettes didn’t improve one’s health, but neither did alcohol – and neither Jinki nor Minho had a problem with that. If it came down to it, he was convinced that more people died from the consequences of alcohol consumption than cigarettes.

“Jinks, it’s okay; let him be,” Minho intervened and stepped closer, taking a look at Taemin. “We should get you home, Taemin. I think that’s enough for today.”

“I don’t want to leave yet,” Taemin replied and tried to push himself off the wall again to go back inside, only for a hand to appear on his wrist, holding him back. 

“Don’t you think your bed is calling?” the older one tried, Taemin first glancing at Minho’s hand before he looked up, pulling a face.

“I’m not five.” 

“No, but you’re drunk. Come on. We’ll get our jackets and then it’s time for bed.”

Taemin was quite sure that Minho wouldn’t accept a ‘No’; he could feel it in the grip around his wrist, so he followed the other two reluctantly without putting up a fight, grabbing Minho’s biceps when he stumbled over his own feet. Only after going back inside did he notice how loud the music was, the sound hurting his ears and the lights from the dance floor burning his eyes, making him nauseous. So he was glad when they finally got out again, Taemin struggling with zipping up his jacket and Minho helping him without mentioning it.

None of them said anything on their way home. Taemin wanted to smoke another cigarette but didn’t dare to in Jinki’s presence, not in the right frame of mind to listen to another lecture by ‘Dr. Lee,’ as he had started calling him in his absence, ever since Minho had told him that the other was planning to get a Ph.D. in one of the most challenging majors there was.

Taemin wasn’t the only drunk person around; they passed a group of loud giggling college girls on their way to the dorm, one of them sitting on the sidewalk, holding her high heels in her hands. She didn’t want to continue walking, one of her friends pulling at her arm while the other was on her phone talking to a taxi driver. It was fascinating how most kids at their university strived for perfection during the day only to crumble under the pressure during the night, going out for drinks to make that pressure disappear. 

Managing to slip out of his shoes in their apartment without falling, Taemin went right for the cupboards in the kitchen and looked for chips, triumphantly pulling out a bag and ripping it open.

“You’ll manage to find your way to your bed?” Minho questioned him with a skeptical look on his face, which Taemin answered with a dismissive hand gesture. 

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’m just asking,” Minho countered as he unbuttoned his coat. 

“Don’t stay up for too long, okay?” Jinki said in one moment and disappeared into his room in the next.

Taemin found the behavior of his roommates ridiculous. He had been far more drunk before, surely nothing to be proud of, but evidence enough that he could handle being on his own. Loaded with the bag of chips, he bid Minho good night with a peace sign and waddled carefully toward his room, holding onto the wall next to him – not because he needed to, only to make sure that the wallpapers were still all intact. Pulling off his jacket first and letting it fall to the ground without a care in the world, Taemin did the same with his jeans, struggling with the belt around his hips before he managed to take them off. He retrieved his cigarettes and his phone out of them and then knelt on his bed to pull the window open, the fresh night air blowing inside his room.

The light inside of Jonghyun’s room was turned off when Taemin lit another cigarette and placed his elbows on top of the window sill. There was not a single star nor the moon visible in the sky, so Taemin unlocked his phone to scroll through Instagram, the cold tickling his naked thighs and making goosebumps emerge on his skin. It was one of his worst habits, maybe worse than drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes, but Taemin couldn’t stop himself from clicking on Jonghyun’s profile to scroll through his posts, nor could he repress the impulse of wanting to check on the other’s activity.

The first thing he saw was a freshly uploaded photo in which Jonghyun had been tagged, almost letting his cigarette fall when he saw who had posted it. “ _Seoulcityboy_ ,” he said to himself and pressed his lips together, scraps of conversation coming back to him. Had Jonghyun lied to him about these men on his Instagram, or had he only met up with them recently? Did it matter? 

It was a regular party photo: a group of guys and two girls standing tightly together with drinks in their hands, Jonghyun standing to the far left in a red plaid shirt with an arm wrapped around his shoulders that belonged to _seoulcityboy,_ who looked to be at least a head taller than Jonghyun. The post was captioned with _‘Partying in #jongno #beautifulpeople #seoulnightlife #itsgoodtobeyoung #dreamers_ ’.

Taemin wheezed at the cringy hashtags and closed the app right away to enter his picture folder. He pressed his thumb on the folder titled _‘Jonghyun’_ for several seconds until the word _‘delete_?’ popped up, his finger hovering over it until his eyes got teary again and he threw his phone wordlessly on his bed. No one had ever messed with his head like this and this time Jonghyun hadn’t even done anything. He had just appeared in a photo – _just a fucking photo_. 

Taemin finished his cigarette and threw it outside before he pulled the window closed and picked up his phone again. He had made a decision, not wanting to stand around hidden inside a closet like an abandoned toy, waiting for Jonghyun to rediscover him. What was the point? Jonghyun’s actions were loud and clear. He was finished with Taemin, but Taemin wasn’t able to finish with him yet.

_‘Are you still awake?’_

_‘If yes, can you come over for a second?’_

He grabbed his water bottle from the floor while waiting for an answer and took a sip, moving the water from cheek to cheek before swallowing and repeating the process several times in a row. It didn’t even take a minute for Minho to knock on his door and Taemin went over to it with determination, taking one long, deep breath before opening it.

“Is everything _alri–_ ”

Taemin didn’t let him finish, hands reaching forward to pull him down and kiss him, while Minho held onto the door frame in shock. Taemin wasn’t convinced of his doings; he was sure that this wasn’t the right thing to do to make the pain go away, but if he could only stop feeling for a while, even if it was just for a few minutes, he wanted to grab the opportunity and hold onto it for dear life. 

He drew Minho in, fingertips fisting his hair, lips kissing away every word that wanted to leave the other’s mouth. If there was one thing Taemin didn’t want to do right now, it was talk. It was the weirdest feeling to kiss the older one: needing to reach upwards, the texture of his lips, of his skin so different from everything Taemin was used to. It didn’t take much encouragement before Minho finally kissed him back and searched for a non-verbal dialogue, hands wandering from the doorframe right over to Taemin’s hips, sneaking under his sweater to look for skin. It wasn’t Minho that Taemin thought about when he pulled the other into his room and pushed the door closed with one hand, but it wasn’t Jonghyun either. It was just lips and tongue, a bit of teeth and fingernails scratching over skin that occupied his mind, his head focused on the task at hand, not thinking about the consequences. 

Taemin tasted beer on Minho’s lips, drank them in, pulled at them, arched into him as the other’s hands wandered to the small of his back, fingertips brushing over the elastic of his boxers. Letting his own hands wander, Taemin let them first slide down Minho’s arms before he went right for the belt on the other’s jeans; a bad decision in retrospect, as it made Minho move away immediately, the hands on Taemin’s back returning to his hips to keep him at a distance.

“What are you doing?” was the first question Minho asked, brows deeply furrowed, lips glistening with Taemin’s spit. 

Taemin tilted his head. “Isn’t that obvious?” He wanted to reach for the belt on Minho’s jeans again, but the other held him back.

“What happened in the time I told you good night to now?” 

The other’s wariness wasn’t without reason and his question a good one. _What the fuck was Taemin doing?_ He wasn’t too sure about it himself.

“This is what you wanted, right? So maybe – we can stop talking?” Taemin said and reached for the hem of his sweater to jerk it over his head when Minho held him back from doing so.

“Not like that, Taemin.”

“ _Pardon me_?” Taemin took a step back, not comprehending how Minho, who had practically begged to lie between his thighs for months, was backing down now.

“You’re drunk,” Minho said, smiling at him.

Taemin knitted his brows, not understanding what this had to do with anything. “And?” 

“I’m not sleeping with you when you’re drunk, Taemin,” he explained mildly, one hand coming up to stroke Taemin’s hair. 

“If you’re worried about it not being consensual: I’m all on board, don’t worry. I’m not _that_ drunk,” Taemin replied hastily, trying his luck for the third time, a frustrated pout finding its way onto his lips when Minho grabbed his hands in reflex and held onto them. 

“I’m _all on board_ with sleeping with you, but I’m not a jerk,” Minho said pointedly, “We can have all the revenge sex, rebound sex, whatever sex you want to have, but only when you are sure of what you’re doing.”

“I’m completely sure of what I’m doing.” 

_He wasn't sure of anything at all._

Minho eyed him uncertainly and sighed. “Come on, Taemin, you wouldn’t even get it up right now.”

Taemin chuckled at that and took one of Minho’s hands, placing it right on his crotch. “Want to try me?”

Another sigh and Minho pulled his hand away. “Go to bed, Taemin. Sleep it off. I don’t want you to be embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow and remember all the things you said.” 

Taemin was growing frustrated, as he hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. In his mind, he had imagined Minho to be willing at all times, reality not agreeing with that fantasy of his at all.

“Is that your last word?” 

“Yes,” Minho answered, to Taemin’s disappointment.

“What if that’s the only chance I give you?” Taemin probed, not accepting defeat just yet.

“Then it will be like that,” Minho said with a shoulder shrug, “When we have sex I want to make it good for you, and I want you to be able to recall it the next day.”

Taemin spun around then and slipped his sweater over his head before sitting down on his bed. “Last chance,” he tried one last time, receiving nothing but a tired smile in return.

“Good night, Taemin,” Minho told him for the second time that night and left the room, leaving Taemin behind, feeling rejected and taken for a fool.

Why was he surrounded by assholes? The one person he wanted to sleep with hung around in nightclubs with strangers, and the one person who wanted to sleep with him had just rejected him simply because he had consumed some alcohol. Once more, he felt treated unfairly. He had presented himself on a silver platter, ready for Minho to do whatever he had fantasized about for months, and now he sat on his bed in just his underwear – _underfucked_ and _underloved_. 

* * *

Taemin woke up the next morning feeling mortified. Burying his head underneath his pillow, he whined loudly, reliving scenes from last night, hearing himself say words he hadn’t known he was capable of saying out loud to someone who wasn’t Jonghyun. He would never leave his room again and live like a hermit until he starved to death in his bed.

Minho’s hand had been in his crotch, and Taemin had been the one putting it there. It wasn’t the act itself he regretted but the situation, his poor choice of words, the desperation in his voice that made everything so extremely embarrassing. He was sure that not a single day would pass in which Minho wouldn’t remind Taemin of his very poorly executed advances. Why couldn’t he have a blackout now? Why did he remember the smallest details from last night, to the extent of still feeling Minho’s tongue sneaking into his mouth?

He curled up underneath the blanket and thrashed around, promising God that he would never touch alcohol again if he helped him to forget the previous night. He had been turned down by a guy who technically slept with anyone who wasn’t quick enough to climb up a tree and had humiliated himself tremendously while trying to have his way with him.

Taemin stayed in bed until half-past eleven, the growling in his tummy so loud and unnerving by that point that it was impossible to ignore it for much longer. Carefully stepping out of his room, he went to the toilet first and prayed that the kitchen would be empty when he went to get his breakfast. But the world had conspired against him: not only was Minho sitting at the table with his laptop and a few books but also Jonghyun, who wore a thick black hoodie and held a coffee cup in his hands. This was by far the worst start to a new day that Taemin could have had, and he wondered what he had done in any of his previous lives to be punished like this.

“Good morning,” Minho said, sending him such a bright smile that Taemin wanted to turn on the spot and let himself be eaten by his stomach rather than get cereal and coffee in the kitchen. The smile was telling; it said, ‘ _Yes, you wanted to hook up with me last night’_ , ‘ _Yepp, I told you, you would come around eventually. I was right all along.’_

Maybe it was a judgment from above; God’s way of telling him that he had fucked up big-time. If even God had forsaken him now, what was left?

“Morning,” he mumbled with his gaze lowered and walked purposefully to the fridge to get milk, wanting to get breakfast quickly so he could go back to his room and pretend that the previous night hadn’t happened.

“Slept okay? No headache?”

Taemin pushed the door of the fridge closed with more force than was probably necessary and got a bowl and cereal from one of the cupboards.

“No headache,” Taemin replied grudgingly and filled the bowl with both milk and cereal before he poured himself a cup of coffee, added milk and sugar, and left the kitchen as quickly as he had entered it, not casting a single glance at Jonghyun. He was surprised to see that the other was even there; he had expected him to sleep at _seoulcityboy_ ’s place. Maybe Jonghyun wasn’t someone who stayed at a hook-up’s place; maybe he came to fuck and then left, à la _veni, vidi, vici_. I came, I saw, I _conquered_ – or in Jonghyun’s case, I fucked, I came, I _left_.

He stayed in his room for the entirety of the day and played an online game, the sun already setting by the time he decided to exit the game and watch a recommended documentary about tattoos on YouTube instead. There was a soft knock on his door when the narrator had finished his introduction about the history of tattoos and had gone over to talk about modern tattooing techniques.

“It’s me. Can I come in?” Minho said when Taemin didn’t answer right away, the question making him want the other to enter his room even less.

“Why?” he asked instead, eyes following recordings from a tattoo exhibition, a Western girl getting a portrait of her mother tattooed on her upper arm.

“To talk.”

Taemin didn’t feel like talking; he wanted to hide in his room until the semester break was over. Wouldn’t it be best for everyone if he moved out and looked for a different room? _Far, far_ away in another dormitory complex?

His train of thought was interrupted when the door swung open, Taemin’s eyes shooting up from the laptop to watch Minho enter his cave. “I didn’t say you could come in,” was all he said and turned back to his laptop, not daring to look the other directly in the eyes, still too embarrassed as he remembered the past night.

“Come on, Taemin. You also don’t want to talk to me anymore? Nothing happened,” Minho said emphatically and sat down next to Taemin on the bed, who moved right to the head of it to keep some distance.

“Dude, I put your hand in my crotch and told you to _try me_. That will haunt me for the rest of my life.” Just repeating the sentence made Taemin shudder inwardly.

“Taemin, that’s nothing. If you’re afraid that I’m going to tell anyone what you did or said last night, I won’t. Believe me, I’ve said much worse while being drunk.”

Taemin wanted to add that he had probably said even worse things while being sober but swallowed the comment, not in the right state to joke around.

“I’m sorry,” Taemin apologized instead and sighed. “I just – I just saw stuff last night that I shouldn’t have and it made me upset and I thought – taking my mind off things might be the way to go. It was dumb. I –”

“It wasn’t dumb; just you being drunk was dumb,” Minho said and Taemin looked at him for the first time, snorting.

“You’re unbelievable.” It was something that could have been taken as a compliment or as a negative critique. Taemin wanted to leave that up to Minho to decide, the other’s smile widening a little.

“If there is still a bit of that ‘I want to take my mind off things’ spirit left in you: Jinki’s at university, Jonghyun left for his mother’s place earlier today, and well – Kibum is in Japan.”

Taemin frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“The apartment is empty; it’s just the two of us. That’s what I’m saying,” Minho replied.

 _The apartment is empty; it’s just the two of us_.

Taemin took that sentence in and turned it around in his head, pondered whether it was better to run away or stay and try to take the pain away for a while. The party photo Taemin had seen the previous night came to his mind again, gnawing at him, tearing him to pieces as he couldn’t stop thinking about Jonghyun possibly sleeping with one of the guys in that photo.

“Just – not in my room, okay?” Taemin gave in and worried his lip, feeling like he was about to sell his soul to the devil. Maybe it was an odd condition, but his room was his safe space, and having sex with someone other than Jonghyun in it felt straight-out wrong, as if he was violating a sacred bond they had tied here.

“No problem,” Minho reassured and Taemin took a deep breath, trying to man up and not act like a child.

“I should probably take a shower and douche first,” Taemin thought out loud and looked at the laptop screen as he went through a list of things he should be taking care of if he wanted to get intimate with anyone.

“I don’t need the details, Taemin,” Minho chortled and gave his shoulder a soft nudge, making the tips of his ears warm up.

Douching was something Jonghyun had taught him about before Taemin’s first time bottoming, with the advice that there wasn’t anything repulsive about penetrative sex without it, but that it was more relaxing for most guys mentally if they did it, especially if they were sleeping with someone new, so the possibility of messy surprises could be avoided. Taemin didn’t know why he was remembering this particular conversation now but saw Jonghyun standing at the sink in their bathroom next to him, the older one holding a soft blue bulb in his hand, which he had filled with warm water and was attaching a nozzle to.

“Sorry, it just slipped out,” Taemin backpedaled and tried to forget the images and words occupying his mind.

“How come you’re watching a documentary on tattoos?” Minho tried to help Taemin steer the boat into safer waters, away from anal sex and douches. “Are you planning on getting something?”

It was a less awkward topic to talk about with each other. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Just not completely sure about the _what_ and the _where_ yet.”

“Is it because of Jonghyun? Because he likes them?” Minho questioned, Taemin shaking his head vehemently at first before thinking about it for a moment.

“No, _yes, maybe_? I always liked tattoos, the members of all the bands I listen to are covered in them. I’ve just personally never known anyone who had one in real life until I moved in with you all,” Taemin explained while gesturing around. “And his looks very cool. So it would be nice to have some myself.”

Minho nodded understandingly. “I see. They do look cool, that’s for sure. I like looking at them; can’t imagine myself having any, though.” He got up then, Taemin following him with his eyes. “My room, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll – come by when – _well_ , when I’m ready,” Taemin replied, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“For movie-watching,” Minho teased, probably wanting to loosen him up, and Taemin grinned at him slightly in return.

“For movie-watching,” he repeated.

Minho walked over to the door but halted in the frame once more to look back at him. “Taemin – no pressure, though, okay? If you don’t feel like it, I don’t mind waiting for another few years.”

“How about fifteen?” Taemin teased him, trying to trick his brain into relaxation mode to avoid being a mental wreck.

“Even fifteen. I will probably be some super-hot dilf by then. Good for you, I guess,” Minho replied with a smirk and then finally left the room, the door soon falling back into its lock.

Had he agreed on having sex with Minho after thinking about moving out of the dorm only half an hour ago? A second attempt? Or a third one, if one included the embarrassing conversation the night before?

Taemin’s head fell against the wall at his back, his finger pausing the video on his laptop, eyes staring holes into the wall in front of him. Had he taken leave of his senses – _finally_? Was this what it felt like when something inside of you snapped, leading you to make one poor decision after the other?

A part of him had always been curious about having sex with Minho – for the mere purpose of science, to see if he was worth all the hype – but a spot in his brain made him feel like he was about to cheat on Jonghyun with his flat-mate in an attempt to help him forget about everything they could have had.

Taemin thought about that small spot while spending thirty minutes on a toilet and later on, when he spent another fifteen under the shower, scrubbing himself of everything, as if he was about to enter a new stage in his life and had to peel himself out of his old cocoon and cleanse himself of all the sins he had committed in his previous life. Nothing mattered anymore.

The old was left behind for the new.

When he eventually sat down on his bed in regular jeans for good measure and a t-shirt, skin moisturized and hair toweled dry, he still didn’t feel ready, twiddling with his fingers as he gazed at the wall, turning his rosary ring around his finger over and over again. Not being able to bring himself to show up in front of Minho’s door just yet, he grabbed his jacket and his wallet and took a walk outside to buy a new pack of cigarettes, some beer, and a few snacks at a convenience store.

He lit a cigarette as soon as he left the store again and looked up to the sky. There was no moon in sight, and a wave of melancholy overcame him. As a young boy, Taemin had been incredibly scared of the dark until his mom had sat down next to him one night and had pointed outside the window in his room, telling him that the moon would always be there to protect him from anything that might scare him. Since then, Taemin had always been happy when he had seen the moon, shining bright and beautiful, reigning in the night sky. Not seeing it always made him wonder if there was something he needed to be afraid of, even as an adult who tried so hard to grow out of being a child.

He strolled through the streets for a while before he finally decided to walk back to the dorm with uneasiness in his heart, the door to Minho’s room opening as soon as Taemin closed the front door behind himself. 

“Is everything alright?” Minho asked him, the smell of vanilla reaching Taemin’s nostrils. When he looked past the other into the room he saw a small candle standing on the desk, the scent probably stemming from there. Was this choice of scent an intentional innuendo or did Minho always use candles for the girls he brought home? A lot of women seemed to like this particular fragrance. 

“You lit a candle?” Taemin asked, to avoid having to answer Minho with a lie. Nothing was _alright,_ but that wasn’t something for him to discuss with the other. It was nothing that involved him.

“Yeah, I thought it might set the mood a bit.” 

Taemin didn’t need unnecessary reminders of someone else who fancied lighting a candle or two from time to time, so he walked into Minho’s room and leaned down to blow the candle out, the whole room already smelling like a candy store. It was warm; the heater turned on, the curtains pulled closed, the bed neatly made, as if Minho had spent the past hour preparing his room while Taemin had spent it preparing himself. 

When he heard the door falling shut behind him, he froze for a second, comprehending that he was a fawn in a wolf’s territory, one hand gliding over the smooth surface of Minho’s desk. A few of his library books were lying stacked up in one corner, Kim Ilsung smiling up at him from the cover of the top one. The guy would probably turn in his grave if he knew what he would be witnessing soon. 

Plastic bag slipping from his fingers and falling to the floor, Taemin turned around when Minho stepped behind him to brush some hair away from his neck. It was perhaps not his most well-thought-out move, but when he found himself face-to-face with the other, he didn’t care anymore, finding himself leaning upwards to press a kiss to Minho’s lips. It was a fleeting one; a test, Taemin pulling away again to look at Minho, who smiled at him, reached out to cup his face, and kissed him back.

It was selfish of Taemin to act like that; to respond to the kiss, to open his lips for Minho, to even be in his room – wasn’t he in no way better than Jonghyun had been to him all this time? Taemin followed willingly when the other maneuvered him over to the bed and tipped him into the sheets, arms slinging around Minho’s neck to take the other with him, trying not to break the connection between their lips as it made it easier for Taemin not to think.

He learned that kissing wasn’t Minho’s strongest suit, or maybe he had just been too spoiled the past few months to remember what regular kissing felt like. It was more about the mechanics, Taemin feeling nothing when their lips brushed against each other. He was sure that kissing his hand would have felt the same way. Minho tasted like peppermint, which was good and made Taemin grin mindlessly into the kiss, the other probably having thrown in a cough drop to be more forthcoming; a small gesture he valued.

He was still wearing his jacket when Minho rucked it up his chest, a warm hand gliding over his stomach and further down to open the button of his jeans, Taemin not even thinking about holding him back. To him it was all the same, and instead of stopping Minho, he let him do as he pleased, arching into his touch and moaning into his mouth when Minho let his hand slide into Taemin’s boxers to grab his dick, this time out of his own free will and not because Taemin had put it there in a moment of foolishness. Minho’s hand was so big that the sensation was a different one compared to getting touched by Jonghyun, Taemin’s thoughts unwillingly drifting to his other flat-mate again. Minho didn’t seem to mind that Taemin had just smoked outside as he welcomed his tongue willingly over and over again, pressing Taemin deeper into the mattress and making his mind spin with the help of his hand. 

“Can we undress?” Minho asked, almost politely, his voice a little breathy and his lips glistening. Maybe he couldn’t wait any longer to finally get Taemin out of his clothes and Taemin couldn’t blame him for it. Minho had waited long enough for him to finally come around. 

“Sure,” Taemin answered him and remembered how his first time in Minho’s room had played out, how he had been too lost in his thoughts and too self-conscious to do anything at all with the other, and now he just didn’t care about anything anymore. What had the past few months turned him into, that he had turned so cold – something he had accused Jonghyun of being all this time? Was it a coping mechanism to protect him and his feelings?

He watched Minho undress in front of him while taking his own clothes off, his hands working clumsily as he struggled with his pants, but neither of them was a stripper in some club who got tips for dressing down sexily, and a self-satisfied sigh fell from his lips when he finally flung his boxers aside and leaned back on the mattress with his arms propped up, legs bent to give the other more room. While he was still soft, Minho’s dick was already hard from just kissing; the head a dark red, a drop of precum oozing out at the tip.

The rumors – and Minho’s words – definitely hadn’t been a lie, nor an exaggeration: like the rest of Minho’s physique, his cock looked flawless, as if he had ordered it online in a shop for perfect dicks. _Pleasantly_ long, _pleasantly_ thick, _pleasant_ in shape and color, no awkward tipping to one side, no curving; overall, a _pleasant_ view, definitely a dick Taemin could imagine to be successful in porn. Taemin couldn’t stop staring at it, wondering if any of his body parts would be able to handle Minho, and he only paused in his blatant analysis when he heard a light chuckle ringing in his ears.

“Sufficient?” The question was underlined with a smirk, and under any other circumstances Taemin would probably have rolled his eyes at the other, but he had to hand it to Minho – or his parents, more likely: their son _did_ have a perfect dick. 

He nodded wordlessly, accepting that it made the grin on the other’s face only widen further. When Minho rose against him and pushed him back down, Taemin yielded without a fight, spreading his legs for the other in submission and shuddering when their naked bodies touched for the first time. There were none of the sensations he was used to, nothing of the tingling under his skin, the ache in his fingertips to keep on touching and exploring, the wish of burying his teeth into skin to mark what he wanted to be his. 

It was a _different_ experience, Taemin’s body first needing to get accustomed to the circumference of Minho’s; his stature _different_ , the feeling of his weight pressing down on Taemin was _different_. It didn’t mean that the difference was bad; everything was just a little too overwhelming, his mind only beginning to stop thinking about distinctions when Minho leaned down to caress his neck with his lips while one hand wandered between their bodies to take him back into his hand. 

Taemin panted softly against Minho’s ear, hands holding onto his shoulders as the other’s hand began to stroke him, head lolling back as he arched into the touch, feeling himself harden in Minho’s grip, eyes falling shut as lips traveled up to his ear and sucked on the lobe, tongue lapping along the shell, his skin rising as a prickling buzz dashed from his ear right down to his crotch. 

Once again Taemin found himself in a situation he had no idea how he’d got himself into, the same way he still had no idea why he had slept with Jonghyun the first time. He wondered how his life would have turned out if he had ignored Jonghyun back then and had decided to accept Minho’s offer instead. It was a question no one would ever be able to answer for him. What if the roles were reversed now and Jonghyun was the one comforting him, the one he went to because Minho had turned out to be an asshole? Maybe guys were assholes in general and he had been better off dating girls.

He gasped loudly and wiggled impatiently underneath the other’s body as teeth nibbled on his ear and air was blown over his heated skin, his body slowly beginning to fall into the rhythm, accepting Minho’s attention. Taemin reached up to fist Minho’s hair, pulling him up, his flat-mate looking at him with those big brown eyes that didn’t seem to be able to harm a fly. Everything was so big about Minho – his height, his hands, his eyes, his mouth, his dick, and as it turned out, even his _fucking heart_ – and Taemin frowned and let his eyes fall shut again when the other leaned back down and went on to kiss his chest, the tip of his tongue brushing along a nipple, hand still steadily jerking him off, not too slow and not too fast, the right amount of pressure to get him hard and let the excitement inside of him grow. 

Minho’s mouth had reached his bellybutton when he looked up and stopped to jerk Taemin off. “Would you suck me off a little?” he asked, voice lower than the one Taemin knew from talking to him every day. He sealed the proposal with a kiss pressed next to his navel, teeth nibbling at the skin, tugging at it, Taemin’s dick twitching in the other’s grasp. 

“Of course,” he replied and swallowed as he sat up, wiggling himself free, nerves pulling at him. He was tense, slightly intimidated even, not by Minho or his size, more by the fear that sucking Minho off would turn out to be as bad as his first time sucking off Jonghyun had been. 

Taemin knelt in front of the taller one, hands on his knees, back straightened as Minho sat up as well to open the bottom drawer of his desk. Their whole unit seemed to store their lube and condoms there. The other leaned against the headboard of his bed with legs outstretched, Taemin sitting in-between them, watching as Minho ripped a condom open and mechanically rolled it down his length after giving it a few practiced rubs. Jonghyun would have leaned over with a smile to kiss him then, Taemin was sure, but Minho didn’t. Instead, he seemed to get more comfortable in his position, motioning Taemin to move over to him. 

It seemed to be Taemin’s turn now, Minho presenting himself like a buffet that was ready to be eaten, eyes glimmering as he looked at the younger. Inching closer, Taemin hovered over the other for a moment, looking down at him, eyes scanning the expanses of Minho’s body. It felt wrong to look at him so bluntly, his hands following his eyes, fingers stroking down his pecs, nail scratching along the peak of a nipple.

He had seen Minho’s nipples before, just not this close. They were bigger than his own or Jonghyun’s and dark brown, Taemin’s mouth instantly beginning to water as he tended to them and closed his lips around the left one. All nipples were the same in practice, his tongue feeling the flesh harden underneath it, teeth carefully nibbling at it to see if it was something the other would be into. A reaction he received quickly, as he felt the other’s pecs tense underneath him, one of Minho’s hands reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“Nipples are your thing, I presume,” Minho said without judgment, a soft moan escaping his lips when Taemin used his teeth to pull a little at the nub, his mind fighting a battle as images of Jonghyun popped up again, scraps of his voice beguiling him, telling him how good his lips felt. Taemin worked hard on suppressing these memories and began to suck vigorously at the nipple, Minho’s fingernails digging into his skin. He only let go to move on when Minho bucked up against him with a low moan, the skin around his dark areola pinkish and covered with Taemin’s teeth marks. He stared at his work, breathing heavily, the back of his hand wiping spit from his lips. 

Minho was built so differently compared to Jonghyun, every limb seemingly endless, his whole body appearing enormous next to Jonghyun’s frame. Taemin lowered himself down between Minho’s legs next, his ass high up in the air and his upper body low when he took Minho into his mouth, staring at his dark, coarse pubic hair that ended in a trimmed line as it reached his navel before he let his eyes fall shut. He wasn’t used to the artificial flavor of condoms anymore, not liking what latex tasted like. Taemin took it slow, licking Minho’s length up and down to map it out inside his head, then slipping his lips teasingly over the head, only to pull away again when he felt a hand first brushing through his hair but then starting to press him down further. 

A glance at Minho made the light pressure at his nape disappear again, which made him go back to work, one of his hands holding the base while the other fondled Minho’s balls. When he eventually tried to take Minho into his mouth, his lips had to stretch wider than they were used to, saliva dripping out of his mouth as he tried to take him deeper, the task seeming almost impossible. Jonghyun probably wouldn’t have had a problem with it. 

“You’re big,” he breathed against Minho’s dick, letting it slip out of his mouth to relax his jaw and licking around it before taking the tip into his mouth once more, giving it a soft suck.

There was a soft chuckle, the hand in Taemin’s hair tucking a strand behind his ear. “Bigger than Jonghyun, at least.” _And me_ , Taemin wanted to add. 

It was fascinating how Minho and Jonghyun couldn’t shut up about each other, appearing to be in a constant battle. Something inside of Minho was probably jubilating right now, knowing that Taemin was in his bed now and not in Jonghyun’s. That Taemin was sucking his dick and not Jonghyun’s. That Minho’s dick would be inside of him and not Jonghyun’s. He wouldn’t be surprised if Minho told his grandchildren about this special _‘victory’_. 

Taemin really tried his best, but his mouth tired out too quickly, Minho’s lack of vocal support not keeping him motivated to go on either, so he moved over to jerk the other off while taking his balls into his mouth one by one, tasting his skin, flinching a little when a hand roamed down his back and a finger brushed over the top of his crack. Out of habit, Taemin let his free hand slip lower between Minho’s thighs, knowing how much Jonghyun was into some anal play while being jerked off, and he was startled when a hand came out of nowhere and pushed his away. 

“Not really into having fingers near my asshole; doesn’t give me anything. I hope you don’t mind too much,” Minho explained when Taemin looked up at him questioningly. 

“I don’t,” Taemin answered, short-spoken, but he still felt like he had lost his train of thought, not even remembering what he had even done. His dick had gone soft while he had sucked the other off, and his excitement was beginning to die down. Minho seemed to notice how puzzled he was and took remedial action to get them going again, skidding lower with his butt until he could lie flat on his back.

“You know what I’m _really_ into, though?” he asked with a little edge to his voice, Taemin glancing down at him, shaking his head. 

“Turn around and sit on my stomach,” Minho said and touched his abdomen, Taemin not following the other, but doing as he asked like an innocent lamb. He watched Minho over his shoulder when he settled down, the other’s hands landing on his hips and coaxing him to move backward. The penny finally dropped when Taemin had moved so far back that his ass was hanging over the other’s face, a stifled moan falling from his lips when a tongue probed at his entrance. He had never been eaten out in this position, feeling like a prince sitting on his throne as he hovered over the other’s body, hands reaching back to hold onto the bed’s headboard, head falling back when Minho reached around with one hand to fondle his soft dick. 

At first Taemin feared that he might suffocate Minho by accident, but that worry was thrown out of the window when he saw how much the other’s dick twitched between his legs when Taemin began to move his pelvis a little while Minho ate him out. What nipples were for some seemed to be asses for others. 

The feeling was fantastic, the stimulation of both his ass and his dick making his moans grow in volume, Taemin shifting his butt back and forth to accommodate the other. He was hard again by the time Minho let go of his dick to let his hands wander up to his sides, holding Taemin steady on top of him, the other’s voice vibrating against his ass cheeks, Taemin almost buckling over when Minho pulled him back a little further and sucked on his balls. 

Sitting on Minho’s face wasn’t something Taemin had imagined could feel as good as it did, the position incredibly exposing and yet somewhat unburdening. No one was looking at him or watching him as he bent and curved on top of the other, spotlights turned off. It was all about letting himself fall into the sensation, enjoying what the other’s mouth and hands were doing to him. Mind blank, he focused on the bustling in his loins, tongue and teeth tickling him deliciously, lips sucking at his rim. 

“ _Fuck,_ that’s so good,” he encouraged Minho and pressed his ass even closer, the other’s dick still rock-hard in the condom despite not having been stimulated in minutes. It was the best indicator of how much Minho enjoyed what he was doing. 

Taemin grabbed his dick to jerk himself off when the pulling in his nether regions got too strong and the urge to cum grew inside of him, teasing him, tempting him. A few measured strokes were all it took for him to orgasm, body quivering, nails clawing into the wood of Minho’s headboard, cum sputtering down on the other’s stomach. Taemin fought for air, head lolled back, eyes shut tight as he gave himself another few tugs, while the pointy tip of Minho’s tongue ran soothingly over his hole and one hand caressed his lower back, comforting him, helping him to settle.

After a moment of regeneration, Taemin carefully stood up, trying to not hurt the other in the process, thighs strained to burst, feet turned slightly numb, legs shaking as he stood next to the bed, cum covering his hand. “You certainly weren’t exaggerating when you said you were into butts,” he said with a tired smile, feeling out of breath despite not having done anything besides sit on someone’s face, strands of hair sticking to his forehead and his nape. 

Minho chuckled in response and ran a hand through his black hair, his face and upper chest unusually red, his mouth wet, Taemin’s cum pooling in small puddles on his abs. He looked high on endorphins and got up on his knees in front of Taemin with a sigh, hands darting forward to grab his butt and pull him between his legs. 

“Exaggeration isn’t part of my vocabulary,” he mouthed against Taemin’s stomach, kissing it noisily before looking up at him, fingers sneaking between his ass cheeks to circle his hole with light pressure, grinning when Taemin’s mouth fell open and a hand came up to hold onto his shoulder. If Taemin was honest with himself, he didn’t like looking the other directly in the eyes, as it made him question everything they were doing here in Minho’s room. It made it harder to ignore the disruption he was adding to an already dysfunctional relationship with Jonghyun. A relationship Taemin began to lose hope in. A relationship that maybe wasn’t supposed to be.

“Do you think you can take me?” The question brought him back to the present moment, Minho’s chin resting against his tummy as his fingers probed at his entrance.

“Try me,” he repeated the sentence he had been so embarrassed by only a few hours ago. A tiny smile reappeared on Minho’s lips, then he pulled Taemin onto the bed in one swift motion and pressed him back into the mattress. 

“I like that answer,” Minho said, Taemin willingly spreading his legs for him and holding them open with his hands as Minho reached for the lube on the desk and flicked the cap open. Minho was far less gentle with fingering him open than Taemin was used to from being with Jonghyun, but he didn’t mind the roughness; everything that didn’t remind him of Jonghyun was a change he welcomed. With closed eyes he lay there, first accepting one finger, then two, _then three_ working him open, surprised by how different someone else’s fingers could feel. 

“Do you think this will be enough?” the older man asked after a while, his free hand continuously having run up and down Taemin’s left thigh, as well as over his balls and dick, either for a distraction from possible discomfort Taemin might feel or because Minho wanted to savor the moment of finally having Taemin lying naked in front of him.

“I guess there is only one way to find out,” Taemin replied and turned around to get on his knees, definitely not wanting to look at Minho while they fucked. He was sure the other wouldn’t mind, considering he had a perfect view of Taemin’s ass that way.

Taemin grabbed Minho’s pillow to hug it as he positioned himself and breathed in deeply, Minho’s big hands stroking along his butt cheeks, two fingers sliding down his cleft, playing with his butthole, teasing it open, probing at it, slipping in to the first knuckle before he pulled them out again, Taemin clenching around nothing but air. Minho lubed himself up behind him, and Taemin tensed when he felt the head of the other’s dick press against his opening. Out of reflex he pulled away from Minho but was brought right back by a hand holding onto his hip, thumb drawing soothing circles into his skin. 

“Are you okay?” Minho reassured, slowly stroking his dick up and down Taemin’s ass cheeks, Taemin wondering if he could give an honest answer to this simple question. Or maybe it wasn’t simple; maybe it was the hardest question of all. 

He had come into this room to forget everything for a while and wanted the memory of Jonghyun’s dick _fucked_ out of his system, so he pressed his pelvis back against the other in the end and tried to go back to his mindset from a few minutes ago, when he had jerked himself off while sitting on Minho’s face. 

“Go ahead,” he said in a low voice to give his consent, eyes widening and his mouth falling open when Minho held him still and pushed the head inside with the help of his hand, the burning sensation so intense that Taemin feared the other was about to tear him open. He instantly gripped the pillow more tightly and pressed his face into it, breathing in Minho’s deodorant, silent gasps falling from his lips as he tried to open up to the other, although his body tried to do the exact opposite. 

“Too much?” Minho sounded worried, halted, and continued to caress him with his hand, while Taemin tried to adjust and relax, forcing himself to open up to the other and not be so goddamned tense. 

“Just give me a moment,” Taemin mumbled into the pillow with furrowed brows.

Minho reached around him to take his cock in his hand, fondling it in a skilled manner to try and let Taemin unwind. It helped a little, and with time the tension in Taemin’s muscles lessened and Minho could push further bit by bit, carefully thrusting into Taemin. After he added more lube it got easier for both of them, Taemin gradually easing into the feeling and beginning to enjoy the fullness in his body. The sensation was intense, at the edge of too much, but it was liberating to fuck without any strings or feelings attached, his mind, just like his ass, filled with dick.

It took a while, but when Minho finally bottomed out, Taemin felt like the other must have reached his abdominal wall – which, logically speaking, wasn’t possible. But Taemin had never felt this full before in his life, every thrust inside of him straining. He enjoyed the slight pain, pleasure rising with every movement of Minho’s hips, every push echoing through his body, making him giddy. He had missed getting fucked, had missed the rawness of the act, the impressions hailing down on him. 

A surprised yelp fell from his lips when Minho grabbed both his upper arms and pulled him up, Taemin’s dick jerking between his legs as Minho had a strong grip on him and began to move his pelvis faster. He was at Minho’s mercy, the thought that the other could so easily decide over pain and pleasure scaring and turning him on at the same time. Strings of precum ran down his length as it bounced between his legs, Minho’s balls slapping against his ass, the grip on his wrists almost painful. But it was a good pain, one that Taemin wanted, _needed_ to last because it helped him to forget. 

“Is the angle good for you?” Minho made sure and raised him until his back was flush against Minho’s chest.

Taemin was amazed by how easily the other could bend him at will like a puppet. Minho breathed into his ear and bit into his shoulder, Taemin answering his question with a loud moan. His face and chest were hot and Taemin closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists as he tried not to fall over as Minho thrust into him. The angle was perfect, stroking him just right, letting him ride on higher and higher waves, his second orgasm coming quicker than he had imagined it possibly could.

He hadn’t even touched himself this time, exhaustion pulling at his limbs, thoughts foggy as cum dribbled onto Minho’s sheets, the other slowing down for a moment, letting go of his wrists one by one to hug him instead. Taemin sank against him, gasping for air, mouth feeling dry, his head dizzy, sweat running down his temples. Minho kissed his neck and his shoulder blades, pulling almost all the way out until only the tip was still inside, while Taemin purred like a kitten, having melted to a puddle of goo in the other’s arms. 

“You look very sexy when you come.”

Was that the devil whispering into his ear? Taemin wanted to offer something in return but his voice felt hoarse, his throat dried out, his mind cluttered. He fell back down onto his elbows instead as an invitation to continue, Minho slipping out of him in the process. Taemin felt himself gaping, lube sliding down his perineum and to his tender balls. 

“ _Shit_ , I do understand now why he continued to sleep with someone who had no prior experience with men. You get so into it and you really want to please, _huh_?” 

The comment was unnecessary as it defeated the purpose of forgetting about the things that used to be, that were no more, and Taemin tried to ban the words from his memory as fingers wandered up his thigh, then over the expanses of his ass to his lower back, pressing his body down so he wasn’t kneeling on all fours anymore but lay flat on the mattress in his cum. Minho climbed on top of him and pushed Taemin’s legs together with his knees, Taemin soon feeling the other’s dick probing at his entrance again, one hand holding his ass open. Taemin lay motionless on his stomach, his softening cock unbearably sensitive as it rubbed against the sheets when Minho pushed in again. 

Both moaned in unison at the renewed connection, Taemin’s fingers fisting Minho’s sheets as the other slapped one of his cheeks lightly, the sound of a hand meeting skin resounding through the room. Taemin wondered how loud the two of them were, if one could hear them from outside the room or even on the other side of the apartment. He wasn’t sure he even cared if everyone in this dormitory could hear them. Maybe he even wanted Jonghyun to come back home, pass the door and hear Minho moan Taemin’s name, wanted him to know that Taemin didn’t need him. That there were plenty of fish in the sea who appreciated Taemin for who he was, that Jonghyun wasn’t the only one able to go around and get fucked by random people. 

“ _Harder_ ,” Taemin heard himself moan, voice not sounding like his own, as if someone else had taken possession of him. He gasped for air the second Minho followed his request and thrust harder, bed squeaking and Taemin’s insides turning, back arching as he rose against the intrusion. His flat-mate’s stamina was out of this world and for once Taemin wanted to thank God for making Minho love sports so much, his whole being feeling like he was floating on clouds.

Taemin’s carnal desire was insatiable and he just wanted _more_ , wanted Minho to fuck him into next week, into next _year_ , until his brain had been successfully rewired and all memories erased. Not facing Minho made it easier to blend out everything around him, to just concentrate on the fullness in his body, the strain, the power in the other’s moves. It was just fucking; empty, soulless fucking, and for the moment this was perfect, for the moment it was what Taemin wanted, what he _needed_ , but deep down he knew that this euphoria wouldn’t last forever, that another dick couldn’t heal him or replace the feelings he tried to burn inside of him.

When Minho slowed down, Taemin wanted to beg him to not stop now, his body tensing when Minho switched his stance just slightly by moving his knees a little further up the mattress, until they were side by side with Taemin’s butt. Placing both his hands on Taemin’s ass, Minho began to thrust again, slow but very deep, Taemin's toes curling as he bit into the pillow. The movements of his pelvis were so skilled and perfectly aimed that Taemin felt like a soccer goal, Minho dumping a ball inside of him with every stroke, hips moving in one flowing motion, never seeming to tire out, Taemin fearing that he might not be able to walk straight for a day _or two_ when they were finished. 

Taemin sensed it in the other's grip when Minho was close, hands suddenly pressing him forcefully down into the mattress, fingers squeezing his buttocks, Minho picking up speed, the bedframe clashing alternately against the wardrobe and the wall, a low, animalistic grunt suddenly falling from Minho's lips. Taemin had no idea where that sound had come from, but it gave him goosebumps. He clenched around Minho to heighten the sensation for him, a few disconnected thrusts following before Minho collapsed on top of him and breathed erratically against his ear, Taemin having a hard time breathing with the other's entire weight pressing down on him.

“God, your ass is a ten,” were the first words Minho mumbled into his hair and Taemin felt the other’s dick still twitching inside of him before Minho finally pulled out and lifted away, leaving Taemin very empty. 

The second he turned around, he questioned every decision he had made since he had walked into Minho’s room, the other kneeling in front of him on the bed, tall, handsome, and naked, holding onto the tip of the condom as he carefully stripped it off, his dick softening in his hand. A twinge of guilt washed over him as he silently watched the other wrap the condom up in some tissues and throw it into a bin beneath the desk. But why guilt? He felt like a cheater, though there was no one he had cheated on. 

“Enjoyed yourself?” Minho asked when Taemin sat up, fingers coming up to lift his chin so Taemin was forced to look at him. He saw Jonghyun’s eyes flickering in Minho’s and he blinked, panicky, until the illusion was gone; puppy eyes turning back to the ones of a deer. Why had he slept with Minho when the first thing he saw after they were done was Jonghyun? 

It made no sense. 

His brain made no sense. His feelings made none.

“I have to hand it to you: you are indeed a good fuck.” Taemin tried to sound as frank and relaxed as he had in the beginning, though his mind was somewhere else entirely – in Jonghyun’s room, to be exact, begging him for forgiveness, although there was nothing to forgive. They had never been exclusive, Jonghyun had made sure to point that out whenever he could, so if Taemin fucked a complete army it shouldn't concern or bother him. 

Minho laughed at the comment and pecked Taemin’s lips, thumb stroking over his bottom lip afterward. “You should stop that new smoking habit of yours. You taste disgusting.”

With that he gave the younger a little clap on his behind and got up to fish his boxers from the floor, slipping them back on, his naked butt disappearing behind black fabric. 

The magic was gone, if it had ever been there at all, Taemin having to face the reality of his life in Seoul again. 

He was an idiot.

What had been the point of this? Him realizing that he enjoyed sitting on people's faces while being eaten out? That couldn't be it. That wasn’t what he had wanted to take away from this experience. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?” 

Minho looked Taemin up and down, the younger one knowing that cum was plastered all over his chest. Nonetheless, he shook his head, feeling that showering together was way too intimate for them to do – which was odd, considering that there was probably nothing more intimate than having someone’s dick deep inside one’s body.

He had slept with another man, someone who wasn't Jonghyun. The realization slowly sunk in, as if a spell had been broken and he had awoken after being possessed by a demon for some time who had made all the decisions for him.

“I'll shower later,” Taemin said absentmindedly, hearing the apartment door open and footsteps walking in. He stiffened and looked over to Minho's room door, almost expecting it to open at any second, but it stayed closed, feet passing the door and walking down the hallway, which could only mean one thing – Jonghyun was home.

“We had perfect timing, huh?” Minho grinned while all the color had left Taemin's face. He watched as Minho grabbed a towel from his wardrobe. “Hey, Taemin,” he began, turning toward the younger one, “If you decide that talking about it might help after all – I’m here, okay? No fucking required.”

He sent Taemin an empathetic smile, which the other hated him for, because why was Minho always so nice to him, for no reason? Taemin had just used his body to forget someone else, and despite knowing this, Minho still acted like a knight – an almost-naked one.

“Stop being so nice to me,” Taemin practically ordered him, evoking a soft laugh from Minho, who came up to him and tilted his head as he caressed his ear. 

“Taemin-ah, you're too hard on yourself, do you know that?” Minho asked, but continued before Taemin had a chance to say anything. “Don't force yourself to grow up overnight. Your 20's exist for you to fuck up. We all fuck up. I do, Jonghyun does, you do – hell, I am sure even _Jinki_ fucked up at some point. You probably think you're a bad person for sleeping with me, but you're not a better or worse person than you were an hour ago.”

Taemin lowered his gaze as he got up from the bed, the cum on his stomach and fingers drying already and forming a disgusting-looking white crust. 

“I can't turn back time now anyway,” he said, feeling defeated by the world, scratching cum from his forefinger. He looked up when Minho reached around him to open the lower drawer of his desk, pulling out a package of wet wipes.

“Unless you get bitten by a spider and develop time-travel superpowers,” Minho quipped, pulling one wipe out and taking Taemin's hand in his to clean it.

“Wrong superhero. If it's a spider, I am probably going to shoot spider webs,” Taemin replied, stretching his forefinger and pinky out while bending his middle- and ring finger. 

“I wonder what happens if you get bitten by a radioactive dick. Are you shooting cum, then?”

Taemin pulled a disgruntled face, but he smiled a little when Minho grinned at him. He knew what the other was doing. Minho wanted to keep him away from self-doubt and not let things turn awkward between them.

“Thank you, Minho,” he said, the smile on his flat-mate’s face broadening as he looked over Taemin's hand to remove the rest of the crusty cum. 

“I think it would be weird to say 'you're welcome' in response, so I won't,” Minho said and let go of Taemin's hand, the wipe landing in the trash can. “I just want you to know: nothing has changed now, okay? We still can hang out and watch movies – as in actual movie-watching – if you want.”

Taemin nodded, wondering if nothing really _had_ changed. He leaned awkwardly against the desk, his ass feeling sore and tender. 

Minho turned around and walked to the door, halting shortly in his steps before he reached it. “By the way – your ass,” he began and gave a thumbs-up. “Is the best I’ve had in a while – so thanks, I guess.” With that statement he left the room, Taemin breathing in deeply as soon as the other was out of sight. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around, not believing that he had fucked someone who wasn’t Jonghyun. The yellow plastic bag he had brought from the convenience store with beer, cigarettes, and some snacks was lying abandoned on the floor. His thighs and butt felt wet and sticky, while his heart felt heavy and empty at the same time.

He cleaned himself superficially with some wet wipes before he got dressed again. He would not be wearing these clothes for long but didn’t want to come out of Minho’s room half-naked in case he should pass someone – Jonghyun – on the way to his room. Doing the walk of shame in their dorm unit didn’t feel like something he wanted to experience.

Walking was uncomfortable; a foreign sensation he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t sure if it had something to do with the size of Minho’s dick or with the way he had fucked him way more forcefully than Jonghyun had ever done – more forceful than Taemin had ever asked Jonghyun to be. 

He looked around the room; the sheets on Minho's bed a mess, crumpled and wet, nothing Taemin wanted to bother with. Instead he pulled the curtains and slid the window open to let the stink of sex evaporate into thin air. Lastly, he picked up the empty condom wrapper, turned it between his fingers, and threw it into the garbage, the rest of the condoms as well as the lube and wet wipes landing in the lower drawer of Minho's desk. 

The walk to his room, though short, was painful; every step a reminder of the sex he just had, Minho humming the _Sailor Moon_ theme song underneath the shower as Taemin reached his room with the plastic bag in his hand. 

Jonghyun was listening to Boowhal's [_Never Ending Story_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_in9g-AyASM&ab_channel=stcostor); Taemin could hear it through the walls, a love song from the early 2000s that had been one of the most popular songs the year it had been released. Taemin decided to wait to shower until Minho had left the bathroom, the sound of the water accompanying the music from Jonghyun's room giving it a rather eerie feel, fitting for a night in March.

He pulled a face when he sat down on his bed and immediately lay down to remove the strain from his butt. Staring at the ceiling, he sighed involuntarily, not knowing what he was supposed to do now. He was an asshole, a big asshole. Probably a bigger asshole than even Kibum and Jonghyun combined. Scratching his face, he wiggled his legs around, wanting to scream but holding back. 

He missed Jonghyun. Missed him so much, wanted to hug him, smell his cologne, feel his hands on him, kiss him – _he wanted to kiss him so badly_. Having sex with Minho had been the dumbest idea he ever had. What had he wanted to achieve with it? The only thing it had achieved was making the longing for Jonghyun grow even bigger. He missed the shape of his lips when he smiled, the sweetness of his voice when he whispered into his ear, the softness of his hands rummaging over his body, knowing their way around him so well. 

On top of that: what if things had changed between him and Minho after all, and he had not only lost all chances with Jonghyun but also his friendship with Minho?

A sudden compulsion to take a smoke overwhelmed him, but he suppressed it, wanting to wait for it until after he had taken a shower. He should never have started smoking, as he noted that he began to crave a drag more and more often these days, becoming impatient when too much time had passed between cigarette breaks. He knew it was better to quit now than later, but things weren’t that easy. His mind was a mess and cigarettes helped him not to fully lose control.

Pricking up his ears, he heard the water in the shower stop and soon afterward, Minho stepped outside the shower cabin. It only took another minute before he was shuffling along the corridor and a door on the other side of the apartment fell shut.

Seizing the chance, Taemin grabbed a towel and fresh, comfortable clothes and made his way to the shower stalls, placing his clothes in a wash basket before stepping inside the cabin. The hot water felt like heaven on his sore muscles, and he washed thoroughly, taking several pumps of shower gel to make sure that even the tiniest remnant of Minho would be washed off his skin. 

The damage had been done and he couldn’t turn back anymore; he had to look forward and hope for the best. It wasn't even the sex he regretted, because it had taught him quite a bit about his likings and preferences, but he regretted how it had happened, when it had happened, and with whom it had happened. Although Minho had been the most logical choice, he had also been the worst one. _Don't fuck where you sleep and eat_. He hadn't followed this simple advice once again.

While washing his butt he noticed a little hickey on his left buttock and wondered whether Minho had left it there to mark his achievement, the same way the Americans had placed a flag on the surface of the moon to let everyone know what they had accomplished. 

Parts of his body felt better after the hot shower, and when he was back in his room, he hung up his towel over the opened door of his wardrobe to let it dry. The world outside of his room was dark and cold, and he put on an extra hoodie, grabbed his plastic bag, and climbed out of his window to sit on the fire escape, having a hard time finding a comfortable position that didn’t hurt his butt so much.

The light in Jonghyun’s room was turned on and a part of Taemin wanted to play mouse again, to peek inside and see what the other was doing. It was insane how his feelings played Ping-Pong, going back and forth between never wanting to see Jonghyun again and wanting to crawl into his arms to never let him leave again.

He lit a cigarette and opened a can of beer, staring into the darkness surrounding their dormitory while he reminisced about his life. The world was still turning; nothing had gone up in flames, and the Devil hadn't thrown him into hell yet to let him suffer in it for all eternity. It had _just_ been sex with a flat-mate, but that little _just_ wasn't so little at all, Taemin unable to fathom yet what avalanche he had precipitated.

It didn’t take much to convince himself to move closer to Jonghyun’s room and sit a little straighter, so he might catch a mop of dark hair through the window. He skidded along the wall until he had almost reached the other’s window and then sat up, taking a look inside.

Jonghyun was at his desk, working on something, his hair tousled and his round glasses placed on his nose. He looked cute as he sat there, unaware of Taemin’s presence, concentrating on his work, pushing his glasses up every so often. Taemin was convinced that Jonghyun’s skin underneath that cozy hoodie must be very warm and he wanted to bury his head beneath it, to snuggle up against the other’s chest, kiss it, and tell him that he never wanted to be with anyone else. The thought made his heart throb, as he might never feel the other’s skin against his again, but he knew that this was for the best, since he didn’t want to repeat the vicious cycle of them having sex and arguments over and over again, only to make Taemin fall even more for him without Jonghyun falling along with him.

Taemin wasn’t sure if he had breathed too loudly or if the smoke rising in front of the window had caught the other’s attention, but Jonghyun suddenly looked up from his task and leaned closer to the window, Taemin’s breath getting caught in his lungs when their eyes met. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what Jonghyun would do, whether he would ignore Taemin or close the curtains to shut him out of his life, but to his surprise, he opened his window and pulled it aside.

“What are you doing in front of my window?”

It was the first thing Jonghyun had said to him since the kitchen incident, and Taemin was so startled that he only blinked, not knowing what he was supposed to say. Eventually, he helplessly lifted the cigarette and the beer in his hands, Jonghyun eyeing both curtly.

“Really? You are still on that shit?” he asked briskly, pulling his sweater over his fingers. He seemed to be cold and Taemin would have loved to warm his hands for him.

“It’s not that easy to quit once you’ve started, you know,” Taemin answered him, feeling his teeth chatter as he opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t be hard to quit if you hadn’t picked up smoking in the first place. What even went on in your mind? Do you know how bad this shit is for you?”

Jonghyun’s voice sounded reproachful, and Taemin would have loved to tell him that the answer to every question Jonghyun ever asked him was always _‘You’_. There had been nothing else on Taemin’s mind for months now. Taemin drinking too much and picking up smoking? _Jonghyun’s fault,_ because Taemin just wanted to distract himself somehow. Taemin failing tests? _Jonghyun’s fault,_ because all Taemin could think about was Jonghyun. Taemin fucking Minho? _Jonghyun’s fault,_ because all Taemin wanted to do was to forget him. 

“It’s none of your business, okay? If I want to smoke, let me. If I want to drink, let me. You’re not my mom!” Taemin said pointedly, his voice coming out more hostile than he had intended it to be.

“You’re right. I’m not,” Jonghyun replied in an indifferent tone and at first it appeared as if he wanted to add something, but then he shook his head, shut the window again, and pulled the curtains closed so Taemin wasn’t able to look inside his room anymore.

Taemin felt so angry that he squished the half-empty can of beer in his hand and threw it against Jonghyun’s window, the can recoiling with a thud against the fly screen before it fell to the ground, liquid oozing out of it. There was no reaction from Jonghyun, which made tears surge in Taemin’s eyes, as he wanted a reaction from the other so badly. How could Jonghyun ignore him so easily when Taemin had such a hard time doing the same? How could Jonghyun erase him so easily from his life when Taemin had such a hard time doing the same? 

“ _Asshole_ ,” he whispered, put the cigarette out, and wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his hoodie, feeling worse than he had in a very long time. He couldn’t even remember what had driven the first wedge between them. Everything had been fine until it hadn’t, every argument only driving them further apart. Maybe that had been the problem to begin with: nothing had been _fine_ , right from the start, so even the tiniest argument could lead to a conflict of unforeseeable size.

* * *

When Taemin entered the kitchen the next morning, wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that were way too big for him, he spotted Minho and Jonghyun sitting at the table like a judgment from the _four last things of man_ , deciding about his future, his ascent to heaven or his fall to hell. As he panicked and wanted to turn around and leave again, Minho addressed him with a simple, “I told him.” 

_Of course he had_. There was no need for further explanation; he knew what Minho was talking about.

Taemin stopped abruptly in his tracks, not sure what he was supposed to say or do, or if there was even a need for him to say anything. He tried to take a glance at Jonghyun to see if his expression gave anything away that might be valuable, but he had pulled his hoodie deep into his face as he sipped his morning coffee, not even looking in Taemin’s direction.

Instead of responding, Taemin murmured a “G’ morning,” and walked over to the kitchen counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. However, the pot was empty and he silently swore under his breath before he started a new one, preparing some cereal while he waited.

“You two still don’t want to tell me what’s going on?” Minho asked out of nowhere, Taemin continually staring at the kitchen counter because he didn’t want to look at either Minho or Jonghyun. It felt weird to be in a room with two people he had slept with. How did Kibum manage to do it all the time? “Did you really fuck someone else?”

This question was directed at Jonghyun, who snorted in response. “Just shut up, Minho – okay? You had sex with him – _finally_. You should be over the moon right now,” he said in a monotone voice, sounding visibly tired. Whether this was due to a lack of sleep or because it was exhausting to talk to Minho in the morning, Taemin couldn’t tell. 

“You bet I am.” The triumph in Minho’s voice was distinct and Taemin felt embarrassed as the other two talked about him as if he wasn’t even in the room. “I still want to know what gave me the honor, though. I didn’t think Taemin would ever come around as long as you were in the picture. So naturally, I’m wondering why you are not in the picture anymore? And no one wants to give me a concrete answer to that.”

Listening to Minho’s bubbly personality in the morning was burdensome, Taemin wishing for the coffee to brew quicker so he could finally leave. There was no concrete answer to give; Jonghyun had just slipped out of reach, stacking up more and more reasons that made Taemin not want to run after him anymore. Did he still want to be with him? _Yes_! But the price was too high.

“It’s nothing that concerns you,” Jonghyun said and got up from the chair. “Congrats, I guess – and happy fucking to you two,” he added and came over to the kitchen counter, Taemin freezing up when the other was suddenly next to him, placing his empty cup into the sink. They hadn't been this close in weeks, and Taemin just wanted to reach out and touch his face, bury his nose in his sweater and breathe in deeply.

Leaning very close, Jonghyun whispered, “I hope he will make you happy, at least,” before he left Taemin standing there to walk to his room. Taemin wasn’t sure whether Jonghyun had misunderstood the whole situation or Minho had told him something that was at odds with the truth, but how was he supposed to be happy when the only happiness he wanted had just disappeared into his room?

Minho couldn’t make him happy, even if he tried.

“What did you tell him?” Taemin wanted to know and faced Minho, who came up to him and leaned casually against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. 

“I just told him what happened yesterday. Considering it was Jonghyun – I didn’t want to spare him any details.”

“You can be such a dickhead,” Taemin groaned and rubbed his temples, not quite believing that it had come to this. He wasn’t even mad at Minho. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut in front of Jonghyun, sleeping with Taemin too much of an accomplishment to keep the news locked away in a basement. 

“You wanted to tell him yourself?”

Taemin gnawed his lip, turning off the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup. “Yeah, eventually. It’s something we’ve talked about before,” he admitted ruefully and added a few drops of milk and sugar to his coffee.

“About us having sex?”

He nodded and blew the surface of his coffee, his cheeks heating up. “ _It’s_ \- he always told me I should do whatever I want and enjoy myself. I - _I_ asked him if he would mind if I slept with you. I hoped that he would – but he always avoided answering me, as if _I_ –” 

“Oh, believe me, he does mind,” Minho interrupted him.

“Then why didn’t he say anything?” 

“That I don’t know. I’m not him.”

“Yeah, you’re not,” Taemin sighed lethargically.

“How’s your butt?” 

_What an interesting change in topic_ , Taemin thought to himself and pulled a face. The past night had been an uncomfortable one for him. 

“Sore,” he answered frankly and grabbed his cereal bowl.

“Sorry about that.”

Taemin huffed and looked up at him. “I know you’re not,” he accused the other, who looked a little sheepish at first and then grinned.

“Yeah, I’m not,” Minho said impishly and gave Taemin a little shove with his elbow. “We’re good though, right?” There was a tinge of worry swinging in this question, as if Minho had looked inside Taemin’s head and knew that he was unsure about everything these days. 

“I think so,” he replied thoughtfully. “If you don’t mind, I’ll eat in my room.”

This being said, he trudged to his room and sat down on his bed, crossing his legs. He heard the theme song of the first ‘ _Attack on Titan_ ’ season through the wall, instinctively inched closer and rested his ear against the wall as he ate his cereal, pretending that the wall didn’t exist, that nothing separated them, that they lay together in Jonghyun’s bed to watch the anime. Only a few weeks ago, this had still been Taemin’s reality.

Where had things gone wrong? The day Jonghyun had come into his room during their little dorm party? Or when Taemin had realized that he had fallen in love with his flat-mate? He shouldn’t have fallen in love with Jonghyun. Taemin knew that. But he hadn’t chosen Jonghyun, _Jonghyun had chosen him._

* * *

Life became dreadful, Taemin spending most of his time in his room, talking to Jongin via video calls or staring holes into the wall that separated him from Jonghyun when he wasn’t meeting up with his classmates to study. Distance was what he had needed because he wasn’t allowed to have what he wanted, but it was painful to be cut off like that, not knowing what had happened to the other. He missed the times when they had lain around in bed in their underwear and held each other while rambling nonsense, and Taemin clung to his pillow every night, hoping that one day Jonghyun would show up again and ask if he could stay with him.

Whenever he saw Jonghyun he got angry for no apparent reason, but whenever he didn’t see him, he began to miss him. There were still a few weeks of semester break left, but he wanted to go back to class already, wanted to occupy himself with work so he didn’t need to think about his problems that much anymore.

 _Luckily enough_ , the sex with Minho had stayed a one-time thing. There were occasions when Taemin had felt especially low and the thought of getting his brain fucked out again had been tempting, but Minho had stuck to his word, at least in one point, and hadn’t tried to initiate anything, most likely having decided that it was better for Taemin to come around again on his own. Taemin was thankful for it because it made it easier to act normally around his flat-mate without constantly having to think about the dick the other was hiding in his pants. Sometimes he still thought about that day and how good the sex had made him feel, but in his fantasies it was never Minho he slept with, his brain exchanging his body and face for Jonghyun’s. 

* * *

“Would you come with me when I get it?” he asked Minho one morning, the other drinking one of his disgusting-looking smoothies at their kitchen table while he filled his stomach with sugary, probably cancer-inducing cereals for children, every piece having the shape of a different chocolate animal.

“Of course,” Minho smiled at him, looking up from his book ‘ _Feudal system in the Edo period: The rise of the merchant class_ ’, jumping from the Cold War to 17th century Japan. Another term paper; the last one he had to hand in for the term, according to Minho himself.

Originally Taemin had planned to take Jonghyun with him to the tattoo studio he had looked up after deciding on the _‘what’_ and _‘where’_ , but when his idea of getting a tattoo had first come up, they were still happily fucking, and now they were not; a condition neither his heart nor his dick was happy about. 

“If you want to take me with you, I’d be happy to tag along.”

“Thanks,” Taemin mumbled with a full mouth, glad that there was at least one person in Seoul he could count on during this time. Jinki had left for his parents’ place a few days ago to stay with them until the new semester started, and Kibum was still traveling through Japan, probably fucking himself through Tokyo right now. He knew that Jonghyun hadn’t left for a longer visit home because he wanted to concentrate on his thesis and his last term papers during vacation and was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do so at his mother’s place, and Minho’s parents lived so close by that it only took him about an hour to travel home from campus, so he sometimes visited them during the day but slept at the dorm, liking the physical distance because ‘ _parents could be so exhausting_ ’. 

Taemin had to travel the furthest to visit home, living in a small town almost six hours and four bus changes away from Seoul. Under different circumstances, he would have left to visit his family at home, but he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of not seeing Jonghyun at all anymore. Even if they didn’t speak with each other, it was reassuring to know that the other was only one room away, their beds facing each other.

Getting a tattoo was more painful than Jonghyun had made it sound, and instead of clawing his fingernails into the backs of Jonghyun’s hands, Taemin was squishing a stress toy in the shape of a cute little whale, trying to breathe calmly while the tattoo artist tortured his rib cage. It hadn’t helped when she told him that the ribs were one of the most sensitive areas to tattoo, his chest stinging whenever the needles hit his skin. He got the psalm:

_‘When I called you,_

_you answered me;_

_you made me bold and stouthearted’,_

tattooed in English on his skin, the font used resembling the keys of an old typewriter. At first he had planned on getting a larger tattoo, praying hands with a rosary on his hip or a pretty cross between his shoulder blades, but after reading how long it took to get a picture tattooed, he had decided that it might be better to start with something smaller, something that didn’t require him to sit still for eight hours or more while needles continuously drilled into his skin. Thinking back on it, Taemin was glad he had gone for a phrase, an hour already feeling like a day to him. The sentence was supposed to serve as a reminder of who he was whenever he doubted himself and that he wasn’t alone in this world, even if it felt like that sometimes.

Minho tried to distract him by telling him stupid anecdotes from his childhood, the petite tattoo artist – who had been smitten by Minho’s smile as soon as the two of them had walked into the shop – chuckling behind her black face mask at every stupid joke and boldly asking if Minho wanted to hang out sometime after she had finished the lettering on Taemin’s ribcage. Taemin felt like the fifth wheel when Minho gave her his KakaoTalk ID, the two of them exchanging pleasantries while Taemin’s whole chest felt like it was on fire, the tattoo wrapped in some plastic foil so he could put his sweater back on. He received instructions on how to take care of the tattoo properly before they left, rolling his eyes at Minho when the other winked at the tattoo artist on their way out. Sometimes he wondered if Minho was one of those guys who had a wooden plank hidden somewhere in their room with cracks in it, every crack carved into it symbolizing a person he had fucked. It was weird to think that Taemin himself might be a crack on that plank now.

After buying some healing ointment for his tattoo, Taemin invited Minho to a bubble tea as a thank you on their way home, Minho rambling about how women with tattoos and piercings were very sexy and how cute that tattoo artist’s face had looked with the tiny black heart she had tattooed close to her left eye.

“Did you see her tongue piercing? Super hot!” he exclaimed as he slurped his milk tea with tapioca pearls, Taemin letting him talk while he tried to put his mind in a place where his tattoo didn’t hurt anymore. 

Initially, the first thing he wanted to do when they got back to the dorm was run up to Jonghyun’s room, burst inside, and show him his tattoo, the same way the other had shown him his piercing back then, but instead of doing that he passed the closed door, a sigh falling from his lips when he fell onto his bed instead of Jonghyun’s. He touched the wall next to him, wondering if Jonghyun was home or had gone out, a part of him tempted to send him a message. He had often sat in front of their KakaoTalk chat in the past weeks, especially at night, and had stared at the bright display in the dark, typing messages he never ended up sending.

He pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Jonghyun to scroll through their messages again, something he had done so regularly that he could recite some conversations as accurately as if he had memorized a movie script. When the twinge in his chest got too big he opened his picture folder to look at Jonghyun, one hand reaching down to pop open the button on his jeans and slide inside his boxers, the tiniest of moans falling from his lips when he touched himself. It had been a while since last he had masturbated, regular porn boring him and not even hentai setting him in the right mood anymore. 

It felt like sinning when he freed his dick from his boxers and began to stroke himself lazily while swiping through the gallery of photos he had saved over the past few months. It wasn’t just the lewd photos of Jonghyun sucking his dick or spreading his cheeks that made him quicken up the speed of his hand, but also the normal ones, in which Jonghyun was simply smiling at him or looking cute. He wondered if Jonghyun had ever done the same with photos Taemin had sent him. Maybe he had deleted them by now or, unlike Taemin, didn’t pay attention to them anymore. It was hard to imagine Jonghyun jacking off to photos of Taemin, although he liked the thought, as it would make him feel less bad about not having deleted the folder yet. It was common courtesy to delete very intimate photos after a breakup, wasn’t it? But what if the people had never actually dated and therefore there hadn’t even been an official breakup?

Taemin’s breathing stuttered when he replayed a video of Jonghyun sucking him off and watched the other circle his tongue around the tip of his cock while staring directly at the lens of the camera, Taemin’s dick twitching in his hand. When he felt himself getting close he put the phone aside and pulled out tissues from the box on his desk – throwing it down in the process – his eyes falling shut as he imagined Jonghyun, his back arching when he came, his other hand trying to catch his cum with the tissues. He panted tiredly, body limbless, tattoo still hurting, his head wrapped in cotton. 

With a frown he cleaned himself up and tossed the used tissues into the bin, his eyes gazing blankly at the ceiling and his mouth trying to remember what Jonghyun had tasted like. When he picked up his phone again the video was still playing, and Taemin could see his hand stroking Jonghyun’s scalp while the other worked his mouth around him. More than wanting to feel Jonghyun’s mouth wrapped around him again, he wanted to run his hand through Jonghyun’s hair and tell him how good he made him feel, the thought making him groan sorrowfully.

* * *

A week later, Minho sweet-talked Taemin into coming with him to a club where he wanted to meet up with the tattoo artist he had messaged back and forth with ever since they had left the tattoo shop. In the beginning, Taemin had been reluctant to join them, neither wanting to leave his room nor wanting to be the fifth wheel again. But Minho had promised to pay for drinks, which had been a crucial selling point and hard to turn down, so he found himself standing at a bar downtown with a drink in his hand, while Minho flirted with the cute tattoo artist, who surprisingly enough had brought a friend as well. Taemin wasn’t sure if Minho had pulled a few strings and was trying to set him up with someone to lift his spirits, but if so, it had been a waste of effort, the girl not being his type at all. Aside from not being into her looks, he also had no idea what to talk about with her, lacking the finesse of communicating effortlessly with people he didn’t know that Minho had perfected and showcased by wrapping the tattoo artist around his finger with a few cleverly placed compliments.

So Taemin stood awkwardly next to the girl, she in a short black dress, sipping a cocktail, while Taemin was in a simple black t-shirt and jeans and on his second beer, pondering at what point it was no longer considered impolite to leave the party. He could be playing a computer game right now or watching a movie instead of standing next to someone he had no interest in talking to. 

When the two women excused themselves to go to the ladies’ room, Taemin immediately moved closer to Minho and leaned over to his ear. “Are you trying to hook me up here?” he asked and looked at Minho, who smiled brightly at him and took a sip from his whiskey cola. 

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Minho gave him a little nudge.

“Not my type.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a type.” Minho frowned and cocked his head to the side. “She has a cute face and nice boobs. What more do you want? It’s not like you are supposed to marry her,” he told him, slinging an arm around Taemin’s shoulder to pull him nearer.

“I have no idea what to say to her,” Taemin tried to explain, which was rewarded with a snort and a light slap on his shoulder.

“Ah, come on, Taemin-ah. You are cute; girls dig that. Just ask her about herself and pretend to be interested in what she has to say. Let her do the talking.” Minho sounded like a dating coach, but Taemin paid him no mind halfway through his advice as his attention was drawn elsewhere, distracted by a figure on the dance floor that looked oddly familiar.

“Is that Jonghyun over there?” he wondered, totally ignoring Minho’s words as he craned his neck to get a better look.

Unfortunately, the back of the person in question was turned towards them, but the mop of dark hair and the broad shoulders looked like they could belong to his flat-mate, who he had seen less and less in the past few days, Taemin only vaguely aware about his current life by still keeping an eye on his social media accounts. Not that they revealed much, Jonghyun having stopped distributing _‘hearts’_ as if he was a popular bachelor on a dating show, giving out roses to people he fancied. 

“No idea. I mean, it’s possible, I guess,” Minho shrugged, sounding not even half as invested in unveiling the identity of the man on the dance floor as Taemin was.

The person was not alone, arms slung around the neck of another guy who was a lot taller than he was. Maybe it wasn’t Jonghyun, then – _unless_. Taemin felt his stomach cramping, not wanting to imagine that the guy he liked had come to a club to hook up with someone else. Maybe Jonghyun had stopped liking photos on Instagram because he had found someone to give his heart to in real life? That couldn’t be. Taemin felt sick all of a sudden, his hands clammy.

When the girls returned, Minho tried his hardest to involve Taemin and the tattoo artist’s friend in a conversation, but Taemin couldn’t concentrate on a single word that left Minho’s mouth, his eyes constantly glancing back at the dance floor in the hope that the guy would turn around at some point to reveal that it wasn’t Jonghyun, out there dancing with someone. He dug a fingernail into the pad of his thumb, trying to distract himself, wishing for the man on the dance floor to not be Jonghyun – that _his_ Jonghyun was sitting at home, working on his thesis. It was an absurd thought, considering that they hadn’t exchanged a single nice word in weeks, both of them living their lives as if the other had never existed. If real-life ghosting was possible while living next door to each other, then this was exactly what they had done to one another. 

The guy finally twisted around, wearing a smile on his lips that was so unique that Taemin would have recognized it anywhere, and for a moment his heart seemed to stop beating. He swallowed hard when Jonghyun leaned up to the other guy to whisper something into his ear, the tall guy grinning at him in response, nodding. 

Would that guy be another number on Jonghyun’s list? 

_70? 85? 98?_

It was when Jonghyun was about to disappear with the other guy that something in Taemin broke loose, as if the sight of Jonghyun with another man in real life had caused a short circuit in his brain. He had never been able to do something about the likes Jonghyun had given out on social media or the photos the other had been tagged in, but he could do something now – something, _anything_ – to keep Jonghyun from walking away.

“Excuse me,” was the one thing he managed to say to his company as he slammed the beer glass onto the bar and followed Jonghyun through the crowd, hurriedly fighting his way between the people. He had no idea what he wanted to say or do, his feet carrying him over the dance floor on their own until Jonghyun was close enough to reach.

“Hey,” he said and grabbed Jonghyun by the wrist, his flat-mate whirling around, alarmed, eyes narrowing when he recognized Taemin. 

“What are you doing here?” Jonghyun asked, the man behind him placing his hands on his shoulders, as if he wanted to let Taemin know that Jonghyun was with him.

“Can we talk?” Taemin wasn’t even sure about what, considering that every attempt at talking had led to doors being thrown shut in the past, but it was the first thing that had come out of his mouth, his heart pounding in his chest and queasiness overwhelming him.

“Yah twinky boy, it’s rude to interfere when adults are talking,” the guy said in a low voice. He looked as if he was already in his 30s, on closer examination, and it took all of the self-discipline Taemin possessed not to go for the guy’s throat. He was so sick of people constantly treating him like a child even though he was about to turn 20. Why did no one ever take him seriously?

Ignoring the man, his eyes went back to Jonghyun. “Can we talk?” he repeated and pinched the inside of his palm to not lose focus. People were bouncing against him and making him stumble as they danced around him, Taemin feeling out of place in a group of individuals who were all having a good time. 

“About what? Can’t it wait? I’m busy right now,” Jonghyun said eventually and was about to turn away when Taemin tightened his grip around him.

“Now. Can we talk _now_?” he persisted, unable to hear it but seeing how Jonghyun sighed and looked at him appraisingly.

“Where?”

“Outside?” Taemin suggested, and after a moment of hesitation, Jonghyun nodded.

“I’ll be back in five minutes tops.” 

The guy looked displeased by the fact that Jonghyun was about to leave him behind for someone so much younger, and Taemin wondered if he knew that he would be just a fling for Jonghyun – or maybe they had met up for that exact reason. Casual sex with no strings attached. That was something Jonghyun liked, wasn’t it?

Taemin didn’t want to think about the other option – that Jonghyun might actually like the guy.

“Lead the way,” Jonghyun said in his direction and Taemin did as he was told, guiding them to the exit, the two of them having to climb a set of metal stairs before they stood outside on the street. It was still cold outside and Jonghyun pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, his nipples – and the piercing – visible through the thin material of his white t-shirt, something Taemin hadn’t wanted to pay attention to but couldn’t help noticing.

“Make it quick; it’s cold without a jacket,” he said flippantly, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet while Taemin tried to sort out his thoughts. He hadn’t even expected Jonghyun to come with him and had no idea what he was supposed to say now. There were so many questions in his head, and accusations, and Taemin had no idea how to address any of those without losing his temper again. 

“What were you going to do in there? With that guy?” Taemin began, worrying his bottom lip as he watched Jonghyun, who gave him a tired smile.

“What do you think?”

Taemin took a deep breath, not wanting to let either anger or tears get in-between them as he tried to figure out where to go from here. It would be too embarrassing to lose face in front of Jonghyun like that. He had lost it before, plenty of times, but not like this. Not in public. 

“Why?”

Jonghyun gave a small huff. “Why _what_? Why did I want to give that guy a blowjob?” he asked. “Because why not? It’s what you accuse me of doing all the time anyway, no?” Jonghyun mimicked the gesture of pressing his tongue against his cheek and moving his clenched fist back and forth in front of his mouth, just like Taemin had done not long ago. 

“How many were there since –” Taemin’s voice broke. He wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer to his question or if it was even necessary for him to know. 1 or 100; what difference did it make at this point? 

Jonghyun made a disapproving sound, arms crossing in front of his chest. Taemin saw the goosebumps on his skin, but he didn’t see the Jonghyun he had fallen in love with anymore. This one was colder, more calculating.

“Why does it matter?” Jonghyun asked, his eyes narrowed. “You are happily fucking Minho now, so why does it matter what I do?”

Taemin swallowed sharply and licked his dry lips as he pulled on the hem of his t-shirt, cold creeping up his back and stomach.

“ _Once_. We’ve slept together once. I mean –” Taemin gestured hopelessly at the club. “He’s here right now, trying to get into bed with a woman.”

Jonghyun seemed astounded. “Just once? How come? Didn’t he live up to your expectations?” he wanted to know in a tone that Taemin had never heard him use before; low, slow, and _malicious_. Taemin had no idea why the other was talking to him like this, but he wasn’t used to seeing that side of the other. Was this what Jonghyun had meant when he said that he never wanted Taemin to witness his bad characteristics? The ones he got from his _father_?

“What is wrong with you?” he asked finally, his voice coming out a little louder. He was so tired of all of this; so tired of the arguing, the fighting, the dark thoughts occupying his head. 

Jonghyun pointed at himself. “With me? Everything is – what did you call it? _Peachy_? Everything is _peachy_!” He formed two ‘ _okay’_ signs with his hands.

Taemin felt his temper getting the better of him, and before he knew what he was saying, the words, “You are a _fucking_ asshole, Jonghyun,” fell from his lips, making the other’s eyes widen. Though maybe not completely justified, it felt good to say them out loud, to let Jonghyun hear them, to vent his anger. 

“Did you just call me an _asshole_?”

“Yes, I did, and what are you going to do about it? Cut me out of your life and pretend that I never existed? Well, thank _God_ – you already did that,” Taemin argued, feeling himself getting more and more irritated by the second. It was a vicious cycle they were caught in, spinning around and around, and Taemin couldn’t find a way out of it. 

“Taemin, you are such a _goddamn brat_ , do you know that? One, big, fat _brat_ – someone who constantly acts like he is the only person in this world with feelings and makes everyone around him cater to his needs, like a _fucking_ spoiled brat.”

Taemin blinked at him, stunned, startled by the words leaving the other’s mouth. Did Jonghyun really feel that way about him? A couple was passing them on the sidewalk, walking in a big curve around them, hurrying in their steps as if they didn’t want to participate in any drama or a potential fight between drunk university students.

“What the _fuck_ are you even talking about?” Taemin swore under his breath, his hands balling into fists. “I was honest with you. I told you how I felt about you – plenty of times – and you just treated me like some toy you could play around with when you were bored.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Jonghyun questioned instantly, Taemin seeing how tense the other’s jaw looked. “Help me out here – but wasn’t I the one who constantly said that we should stop and not continue because it would only hurt you?” 

“Saying something and doing something are two very different things,” Taemin lunged out and took a deep breath. “You still continued to sleep with me, didn’t you? It’s not like I cuffed you to a bed. You could have just stopped it, but you didn’t.” 

Jonghyun began to laugh; loud and bitter. “Are you kidding me? You do know that there were two people involved, _right_? It wasn’t only me – it was you as well. But that doesn’t fit your narrative, _right_? It’s so much easier to blame others for one’s wrongdoings, right? You said I’m not your mother and yet you want me to make all decisions for you. _God_ , you are such a goddamn child sometimes.”

Jonghyun combed his fingers through his hair, pulled at the strands, and Taemin felt his bottom lip quiver, struggling to force down the tears that wanted to fill his eyes. 

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he said, much quieter now, every word out of Jonghyun’s mouth hitting him like stabs with a knife. “I’m just a child to you, aren’t I? It doesn’t matter if you cut me out because I’ve always been just a _fucking_ child in your eyes anyway. Young Taeminnie who hasn’t seen much of the world yet and whose opinions and feelings aren’t important or valid because he is a _goddamn_ child!”

Taemin was hopeless, desperate, destroyed, trying so hard to keep a straight face but unable to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks any longer.

“Taemin-ah.” Jonghyun seemed at a loss for words now, his voice calmer, _softer_.

Taemin shook his head. “It’s enough now. I just can’t do _this_ anymore – any of it. It’s too much,” he took a deep breath and sniffled his nose, roughly wiping the tears away from his face with his arm. “I tried _everything_ , you know. I tried everything for you to see me as an adult – as a _man –_ and –” He paused as his voice began to break again. “It still wasn’t good enough, _right_? It will never be good enough. _I_ will never be good enough. So– you won! I’ll give up now. That’s what you wanted anyway, _right_? For me to finally give up on you.”

Taemin took another shuddering breath, not even trying to keep his posture up anymore.

“Go back inside, it’s cold out here,” he said with a finality that didn’t leave much space to say anything else and wiped his face again, tears rolling down his nose and falling onto his t-shirt, his body trembling from the cold.

“Where are you going?” Jonghyun asked him when he began to walk down the street with slouched shoulders, not wanting to go back inside the club.

“Does it matter? Just go back inside and do whatever you wanted to do with that old man.” Taemin tried to put the other off, wanting to be alone so badly, unable to keep looking at Jonghyun’s face. How could he ever have been so naive to believe that a guy like Jonghyun could ever see him as an equal?

“Wait – let me walk you home. It’s so late already.”

That single statement underpinned everything Taemin had said, and it only showed that the other had once again not listened. _Because he never did_ , at least, not to Taemin. 

“Jonghyun, for _fuck’s sake,_ I’m a _fucking_ adult. I can find my _fucking_ way home alone. Jesus – _fucking_ Christ, I’m not five. Now go back inside before you catch a _fucking_ cold!” Taemin hissed and stormed off, leaving Jonghyun behind. 

But as soon as Taemin turned around the next corner, his façade crumbled, and his sobbing intensified, grew more distraught, tears blurring his vision as he ordered a taxi via an app, waiting for it in the light of a streetlamp. He wasn’t sure if he had wanted Jonghyun to follow him or not, but wondering about it was irrelevant as Jonghyun hadn’t followed him, and as Taemin got into the taxi and told the driver the address of their dorm, he thought that Jonghyun was probably on his knees in a shabby toilet, sucking someone’s cock.

On his way to the dorm, he sent Minho a short message to let him know that he had gone home, but he didn’t tell him that he would leave the dorm that night to flee to his parents. On his way to the dorm, he checked the night buses to his hometown and bought an online ticket, even tolerating the fact that he would have to wait an hour in the middle of nowhere for a connecting bus, just so he could leave the dorm as quickly as possible.

Maybe his decision had been a little rushed and irrational, but the thought of seeing Jonghyun the next morning tore his insides apart. He needed to distance himself physically to finally be able to distance himself emotionally.

Taemin spent a mere ten minutes in his room after he had arrived at their unit, almost frostbitten as he had forgotten his jacket at the club, grabbing only the most essential things and tossing them into his backpack before he headed outside and walked to the nearest subway station that took him to Seoul Central Station. He huddled up in the hoodie he had grabbed on his way out and silently sniffled into the scarf he had bound around his neck. The tears didn’t want to stop; even after half an hour, they kept coming back.

At the station, he bought some snacks for his journey and sat down on a bench to wait for his bus. Only a handful of other night owls sat at the stop and waited for their rides, some drunk university students and a few businessmen. When the time for boarding had finally come, Taemin took a seat in the hinder part of the bus, put on his earphones, and looked out the window.

It was a weird coincidence that the first song that came up when he put his phone on shuffle was Naul’s [_One’s way back_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fOmo5BAT3Q&ab_channel=stcostor) the song reminding him of the times Jonghyun had cried over Kibum in his bed at night. Taemin followed his example for one last time, put the song on repeat, and pressed his head against the cold bus window, tears streaming down his face and not running dry.

_If you can't say “I love you”_

_you should at least say goodbye_

_leaving without saying anything_

_I really hate you so much_

I really hate you so much…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no introductory words for the following chapter, but I made a [Taemin mood chart](https://s12.directupload.net/images/201228/zyyni5l9.jpg) a few weeks ago, and thought this might be the right time to share it. So if you are wondering when will things get better, please refer to the mood chart. ^^"  
> The following chapter is sponsored by Taemin being dumb ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Also if anyone wondered about the categories I used for this fic right from chapter one, you will now get your answer as why I chose them. 
> 
> 2020 was tough for everyone and I hope 2021 will look better for you, and you all will be doing well physically as well as mentally. I hope you reach your goals, or at least get a step closer to reaching them. Please take good care of yourself. <3

Taemin’s parents weren’t awake yet when he unlocked the door to their house at seven in the morning, the family dogs the only ones welcoming him home. Eve, the brown toy poodle, jumped up Taemin’s legs in excitement when he took off his shoes at the entrance while Adam, the small Maltese, ran in circles, his little tail hectically wagging from left to right, nervous little yelps leaving his muzzle.

“ _Shh_ – you troubled child,” he whispered with a soft smile and picked up the small dogs one by one, craving their comfort, burying his nose into Eve’s brown curls. Both wore tiny sweater vests, Eve in yellow and Adam in light blue, the two dogs far more fashionable than Taemin had been since puberty. They were like younger siblings, Taemin’s mother pampering the dogs all day long after her human child had left the nest to study far away in the big city. 

Tip-toeing up the stairs with the dogs in his arms, Taemin walked to his room and pulled a face when one of the wooden steps creaked under his weight. He wanted to make as little noise as possible to not wake anyone up, and he’d been relieved that his mother wasn’t in the kitchen already to prepare breakfast when he had unlocked the door. 

Taemin was exhausted. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep on the bus, his mind occupied by jumbled thoughts about Jonghyun. With his eyes still puffy and red, there was no way his mother wouldn’t see right through him and know that something was amiss, and the one thing Taemin didn’t need was to crumble down in front of her. He was not a child anymore, even if his surroundings treated him like one. 

His room looked the same way he had left it in January, except for the bedsheets, which had been changed from white to navy blue. He placed the dogs carefully on his bed before he tossed his backpack aside and flung himself onto the mattress with a sigh, body and mind exhausted from overthinking. His brain had been working overtime, repeating his conversation with Jonghyun over and _over again_ in his head and hearing himself say the words ‘ _I’m giving up on you’_. 

It was devastating to know that Jonghyun hadn’t cared about anything he had said, and the pain in his heart was incomparable to anything he had gone through in his life so far. Taemin didn’t want his heart to be broken; he preferred it to be ripped out and tossed aside instead, leaving him numb and emotionless.

Throughout the bus ride, Jonghyun as well as Minho had called him countless times, finally going over to leave voice messages to ask if Taemin was okay when he didn’t pick up. _‘I wanted to talk to you when I got home, but you weren’t there_.’ Taemin could still hear Jonghyun’s voice echoing through his earbuds, his insides twisting, queasiness creeping up his back. He really had the nerve to speak to Taemin after sucking a guy off on a toilet of some club?

Taemin hadn’t only ignored Jonghyun’s efforts to get in touch with him but Minho’s as well, had turned his phone to flight mode eventually, wanting to escape everything he had left behind in Seoul for as long as possible. _He had fucked up_. There was no way to sugarcoat it. His flat-mates had all warned him, Jonghyun himself had warned him, and he had listened to no one; he had wanted to be an adult so badly, only to fall face-first onto concrete like a small child taking his first steps into the world. 

He fell asleep the second he huddled up underneath the blanket with his dogs by his side, body too drained to continue moving around, and he didn’t wake up again until someone shook his shoulder and gently called his name. Disoriented, he thought he was back in the dorm and it was Jonghyun’s voice he heard, but when he slowly opened his eyes his mother looked down at him, visibly worried, a red apron bound around her tiny frame. Adam and Eve were nowhere to be seen, having left their posts as guardians of his sleep.

“Morning,” he mumbled and rubbed his eyes, a yawn leaving his lips. It was nice to wake up in his own room, in his own bed, seeing a kind face.

“Honey, when did you arrive? You should have told me you were coming,” she said, sounding affronted, a subtle threatening note in her tone that only mothers possessed.

Taemin lied, telling her that he had missed her and his dad, the dogs, and his friends because he knew it was something she would like to hear, something that would flatter her ego, and his mother’s features softened as she stroked his head and told him that he should come downstairs to eat something. He was thankful that she ate up his excuses like a slice of cake on a Sunday afternoon and didn’t bother him with questions he had no choice but to answer with more lies. Maybe she was glad to see her son back home, and maybe that was enough for her. 

Being home was like a journey back to the past, and Taemin wondered what on earth had made him want to study in South Korea’s capital when he enjoyed the lightheartedness of the people in his hometown so much. He remembered being bored out of his mind in this small town during high school, but compared to the city life where everything and everyone was always busy and frenetic, coming back to the countryside was almost therapeutic and not confining in the slightest. Skyscrapers exchanged for rice fields, businessmen exchanged for sheep and cows, and noise exchanged for the lovely chirping of birds preparing for spring. It was all Taemin could wish for. 

Taemin spent four days acting like a 14-year-old teenager. He devoured the food his mother cooked, reluctantly went to get a haircut after his mother told him she wouldn’t let him attend the church service looking like the singer of some underground punk band, played video games with Jongin from noon till night, and pretended that he hadn’t completely messed up his life at university. It was so easy to pretend that his life was back to the way it used to be when he took walks with the dogs and his mom through the beautiful greenery outside their house or fooled around with Jongin like they were two kids again. As long as he didn’t look at his phone, he was fine; as long as he acted like he had never possessed one, _life was simple_. 

It was only on day five that he was strong enough to turn his phone back on and face the truth he had tried to run away from. There were a few messages from his peeps at university, asking if he wanted to hang out again, a few emails from university informing the students about the application period for classes in the summer term, and a ton of spam emails. However, the majority of messages came from Minho and Jonghyun, who had called so often and sent so many messages that the number popping up on his screen increased so drastically that it nearly froze Taemin’s phone.

In his KakaoTalk chat with Jonghyun, the other had sent him a message almost every hour of the day to ask where he was and say that he was worried about him, and in the chat he shared with Minho, his flat-mate begged Taemin to please contact him because he was worried and Jonghyun was driving him nuts. 

There was nothing in this world that could make Taemin talk to Jonghyun again, the wounds still too fresh, too deep, not closed-up or scabbed-over yet. Simply seeing the other’s name made his chest tighten, but no matter how often his finger floated over the ‘ _block’_ button, he didn’t manage to press it. A tiny, miserable part of him still clung to Jonghyun, and as long as this part was alive and fed on happy memories the two of them had shared, Taemin couldn’t bring himself to interact with the other, too afraid that he might crawl back like a person without any self-worth.

He sent Minho a message instead, telling him in a few words that he was okay and at his parents’ place and that there was no need to worry about him. Not even a minute passed before his phone started vibrating, the display indicating an incoming video call from his flat-mate, and Taemin hesitated, debating whether he should take the call or swipe Minho away. Ultimately he decided on the former and clicked ‘ _accept’_. After all, it hadn’t been Minho he had run away from.

Taemin fixed his hair when he saw himself in the upper left corner of the screen, still not used to its shortness, while Minho’s face looked straight at him, eyes big and concerned. 

“What the _fuck_ , Taemin,” Minho barged right in without even a simple ‘ _Hello’_ or _‘How have you been?’_. It seemed like the other was lying on his bed, head bedded on a white pillow; a pillow Taemin had moaned into not so long ago. “Do you even have the slightest idea how worried we two are?” the older one babbled incessantly. “If you hadn’t contacted me today, we would have gone to the police. You can’t disappear without even leaving a note, Taemin,” he continued, sounding like a father giving his child a lecture for coming home late, and Taemin nodded ruefully, his shoulders slouching. 

“ _I know_! I’m sorry. I just wanted to leave and when I got here, I turned my phone off,” he apologized, watching Minho turn onto his side. 

“I noticed,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Taemin, what happened that made you run off to your parents all of a sudden?” Minho wanted to know, and Taemin let himself fall onto his mattress, holding his phone over his head with one hand.

“It’s –” Taemin took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about it. _Jonghyun_ and I – fought and –”

“But all you’ve been doing lately is fighting,” Minho interrupted him. The other was right, all their conversations had ended up with both of them being angry, but this time it had been different. There had been a finality to it; they had reached the point of no return, had overstepped it, there was no going back anymore. As much as Taemin had hoped that they could go back to the way they used to be, it was impossible now.

“Yes, but it was different this time. Look, I – want to stay here for a while and clear my head, okay? No need to worry.” Taemin licked his lips before he continued. “It’s okay. _I’m okay_. I will be back before I have to retake my exams,” he added pragmatically.

Minho’s face grew slightly pixelated on the screen, the internet connection lagging. “What should I tell Jonghyun? That you are okay?”

Taemin snorted and turned onto his side, resting his head on his pillow. “It’s not like he cares anyway.”

“ _Taemin_ , that guy has been going berserk. He has been checking the news non-stop, fearing that you might show up somewhere in a dumpster, and when you didn’t, he thought that you might be at your parents,” Minho explained. “He kept on about why none of us have your home address or number. He even called the university in the hope that they would give out your parents’ address, but obviously, they aren’t allowed to do that. Whatever happened between you two, it clearly has nothing to do with Jonghyun not caring about you,” Minho told him.

The words coming out of his flat-mate’s mouth made no sense to Taemin at all. Jonghyun had never cared about him before, so why was he doing it now? Did he want to redeem himself? Clear his name? Cleanse himself of sin? Jonghyun wasn’t religious – it wasn’t like he believed in purgatory or the wrath of God. Heaven or hell, it was all the same to him.

“He’s an asshole, Minho,” Taemin said dryly, feeling petty. 

The older gave a low chuckle. “Yes, the biggest one in this unit for sure,” he teased and winked at Taemin. That Minho was joking was audible in the lightness of his words, but what he’d said was what Taemin truly felt. To him, it wasn’t a joke. Jonghyun had hurt him – _badly_. Beyond repair – _maybe_. 

There were enough things here that reminded Taemin of Jonghyun already, like the cup of black coffee his dad drank in the morning, or those puppy eyes his dogs made when they wanted a treat, so talking about his flat-mate wasn’t something he wanted to keep doing. There was no point. He needed to finally close this chapter and leave it behind. The vase was broken and Taemin didn’t want to pick up the pieces and glue them back together while fearing that Jonghyun might come around to destroy it again. 

“What about the tattoo artist? Are you meeting up with her again?” Taemin tried to change the subject, Minho pouting at him a little in return.

“ _Jeni_?” he asked. “I definitely want to see her again. I’m sure if you had stayed she would have taken me back to her place. She likes me; she was constantly holding onto my arm and squeezing my biceps. It was kind of cute...” Minho drifted off, eyes cast at the ceiling. “Anyway, Jonghyun showed up at some point and told me that you went home on your own and that we should go, because he didn’t want you to be alone but thought that you might prefer to see me instead of him.”

Without realizing it, Minho had given Taemin an answer to a question that had bugged him ever since he had left the club. Jonghyun hadn’t gone back inside to suck some old dude’s dick; he had looked for Minho. 

“We grabbed a taxi and got the two girls home first – gentleman things and all – but by the time we got home you already had left.”

Taemin pondered how the night might have played out if his two flat-mates hadn’t driven the two women home and had come straight back to the dorm. Maybe they would have encountered each other there before Taemin had had the chance to leave. Would that have changed anything, though? There was only one thing Jonghyun could have said that might have changed Taemin’s mind, and it was the one thing Taemin knew the other would never say to him. 

“I’m sorry for messing up your date.” 

Minho gestured around with his hand and shook his head. “It’s okay, man. Don’t worry about it. We’re meeting up again tonight for dinner. She found it cute that we were so worried about you. If anything, it gave me bonus points,” he snickered and added in a more serious tone, “I’m glad to know that you are okay.”

Taemin nodded with a thin smile, not knowing what else to say until Minho pointed at him through the screen.

“Cut your hair, _huh_?” 

There was a smile on Minho’s lips as Taemin unconsciously reached out to touch his head again, fingers running along his nape. Taemin had never worn his hair like this before, trimmed short in the back and on the sides, the hairdresser only leaving him with some length on the top after Taemin had told her that he didn’t care about the style, as long as he could walk outside without having to hide his head underneath a hat. 

“Yeah, the hairdresser called it the ‘[idol hair look](https://i.ibb.co/CtnRWdd/Eb-Xhwuv-U8-AAcw-S0.jpg)’.” Taemin put the words in quotation marks with one hand, not sure if people from the countryside understood what was seen as trendy and fashionable in Seoul right now, always being behind the times by a year or two. 

“Looks good. It suits you,” Minho said and bit his bottom lip as he grinned. “Pity, though. I should have pulled it when I had the chance.”

Taemin rolled his eyes and turned from his left side to his right. “Not the right time.” 

“ _Ah, come on_ ,” Minho teased him. “I’m not the one you fought with.”

“Still, I’m not really in the mood to talk about stuff like that,” Taemin replied and looked up when he heard soft scratching on his bedroom door. 

“ _Stuff like that_?” Minho laughed while Taemin got up to walk over to the door, to find Adam sitting just outside, looking up at him with his roundish black eyes. “Just admit that I fucked you way better than he did.”

Taemin snorted loudly as he picked up the small Maltese, the dog’s tail wagging excitedly. “So you want me to lie?” he asked as he walked back to his bed and sat down, Adam slobbering all over his face as he struggled in Taemin’s embrace, claws clinging to his sweater.

“Is that one of your puppies?” Minho ignored his question as Adam finally wiggled himself free and scurried over Taemin’s bed. Taemin pointed the camera of his phone at Adam for a moment before he focused it back on himself. 

“Yeah, that’s Adam. He’s a mess,” Taemin explained with a smirk and tried to coax the dog to come closer with his hand. “Eve is probably lying on the couch downstairs. He likes to watch TV with my dad.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s the devil,” Taemin snickered and patted the mattress until Adam walked up to him and let Taemin scratch his ears. 

“Hey, I’m meeting up with friends from uni soon. I’m already late anyway, but it’s good to see you’re still breathing,” Minho cut in and got up from his bed.

“I’m still breathing,” Taemin reassured and waved the other goodbye. “Have fun, I guess.”

After ending the video call, Taemin lay in bed wide awake for a long time, Adam snuggling up into the crook of his arm. He was still angry with Jonghyun for basically calling him a selfish spoiled brat, and he wasn’t sure if anything could change the bitter sentiment he felt towards the other. In the past few days, even the past few weeks, he had repeatedly asked himself the same questions: _Was he still in love with Jonghyun? Had ever even been in love with him or did he just like the idea of being in love with him?_

He recalled how Kibum had told him that Jonghyun had never really been in love with him and had only ever liked the _idea_ of being in love, and while Taemin hadn’t understood what the other had meant, he wondered if this was all it had ever been for him. The idea of being in love was something Taemin had thought long about. What if he had only ever imagined being in love, even with his past girlfriends? What did love even feel like? What if he wasn’t capable of being in love? Never before had there been a person he liked to spend his free time with as much as he did with Jonghyun, and never before had there been a person he had been so physically drawn to as he was toward Jonghyun.

But was that enough? Was that what love was all about? Finding the person one was most comfortable with? If the answer was yes, then Jonghyun had successfully boycotted everything that could have been, and Taemin wondered whether there would ever be another person he would feel as comfortable with as he had with Jonghyun. 

When Taemin finally fell asleep it was past 3 am, a waxing crescent high up in the sky and shining into his room. He dreamed about Jonghyun, meeting him in the woods near his old high school to build a castle made out of sand, Taemin turning restlessly in his sleep when the sand turned out to be quicksand and he had to watch Jonghyun drown in it, unable to help him. 

It was still dark outside when he jolted up, his t-shirt drenched in sweat, his heartbeat faltering and his breathing uneven. He got up from the mattress and walked over to the window to open it, freezing when a cold whoosh of air blew inside. Lighting up a cigarette, he breathed in deeply, still not having been able to quit. He was less stressed when he smoked, but he made sure that his parents didn’t find out that he had followed in his father’s footsteps. Despite his father being a smoker for as long as Taemin could remember, he knew how much his mother hated it. 

He checked his phone as he leaned over the windowsill, to find three new text messages from Jonghyun displayed on the screen _._

_‘Minho told me.’_

_‘I’m glad you are okay.’_

_‘I’m sorry_.’

What Jonghyun was sorry for, exactly, Taemin couldn't tell. Was it for the things he had called him or for the way he had played around with him all this time, knowing damn well that Taemin had been too attached to break things off with him? He had become numb to Jonghyun’s _‘I’m sorry,’_ having heard it so many times in the past few months. _Too many_ ; more than should be allowed. If Jonghyun didn’t do things to hurt him, perhaps there wouldn’t be a reason for him to apologize all the time. 

Taking another drag, he opened Pandora’s Box by browsing through the folder titled ‘ _Jonghyun’_ again; a black mark on his chest, a bad habit he couldn’t shake. Skipping all the X-rated photos, he ended up looking at one that showed the two of them together. It was a photo they had taken while cooking, Taemin holding the phone and smiling brightly into the camera while Jonghyun placed his chin on his shoulder, looking extremely cute, and waved a spatula around as he showed Taemin how to make pancakes.

Everything had been so lighthearted back then; they were just two nerds who had sex with each other, and Taemin was still unsure at what point things had become so complicated that he had to flee the city because he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing an apartment with Jonghyun anymore. Way too often he wished to travel back in time to the day they had first kissed, so he could step away from Jonghyun instead of deepening the kiss. Maybe the two of them had been better off as friends after all.

* * *

“You still don’t want to talk about it?” Jongin looked over at Taemin as they sat on the floor in Taemin’s room, both of them holding controllers in their hands, playing FIFA. 

Taemin sighed as he stared at the TV screen and made Lionel Messi run over the soccer field, trying to break through Jongin’s defense. All they had done over the past few days was play video games like they used to, Taemin trying to escape real life by hiding in a virtual one. 

“There is nothing to talk about,” he replied indifferently and swore under his breath when Lionel Messi kicked the ball against the goalpost, Taemin’s hand hitting the floor in frustration. Nothing seemed to go well these days, not even shooting goals in a video game. 

“You show up looking like shit and want to tell me that there is nothing to talk about?” Jongin tried again, nodding to himself, looking visibly displeased. “Cool.”

“I told you that I’ve missed home.” 

Jongin sneered disparagingly and scoffed.

“Sure,” he nodded again, sulking this time. “I thought we were best friends, man. What the fuck? The last time you lied to me was when we were six.” 

Taemin still remembered it. He had eaten Jongin’s share of the sweets his mother had given them while the other had gone to the toilet, and Taemin had lied about it afterward, claiming that a squirrel had shown up in his room and stolen all the sweets, making six-year-old Jongin cry terribly. 

Pressing the buttons a little more aggressively, Taemin swallowed but said nothing, having to stretch out his right leg after having sat on it for too long. The good thing about being home was that no one had made him talk about what had happened in Seoul, which had helped him to pretend that everything was fine and that there was no need to worry about anything. Jongin had accepted that Taemin didn’t want to talk about it the first time he had asked, and he couldn’t understand why the other had to bring it up again now. There was nothing that could be done about the situation, so there was also no need to talk about it and remind himself of everything that had happened.

“Does it have anything to do with Jonghyun?” 

Jongin’s voice was low, watchful, and Taemin’s jaw clenched as he started another attack on the opposing team’s goal, fouling one of his friend’s players in the process and receiving the red card, his controller flying through the air as he tossed it away in irritation. To calm down, he got up and fished his pack of cigarettes out of his bag, opening the window to take a smoke. 

“I guess that’s enough of an answer.” Jongin paused the game and stood up as well, joining his friend at the window, who looked outside and ignored him. Taemin had his arm crossed in front of his chest as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs, enjoying the slight dizziness it left him with. 

“I thought you two were in the clear again? People who fight also make up eventually.”

Taemin wheezed and leaned his head against the wall, biting his lip. What was there to make up? He had told Jonghyun that he would give up on him, that he didn’t care anymore. Jonghyun had told him that he was childish and spoiled. How would they be able to find common ground again after everything? They couldn’t go back to how they had been in the beginning, no matter how much Taemin wished for that to happen. 

They had shared _too much_ , destroyed _too much_. 

“Did he do something to hurt you?” Jongin nudged Taemin’s shoulder gently. “Do you want me to beat him up?” 

_Had_ Jonghyun hurt him?

Of course he had – not just by saying hurtful things, but also by acting like he cared when in reality he didn’t – _not one bit_. If he had cared, had cared about Taemin at all – wouldn’t he have followed him that night? Wouldn’t he have apologized the second those words had left his mouth?

“It’s not his fault,” Taemin answered despite all that, watching an eagle fly closely over the neighboring rice field as it looked for prey. “I was dumb – _naïve_. Look – a lot of things have happened since we last talked about him. I _just_ – I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him – nor confessed, for that matter.”

Jongin squeezed his shoulder. “As far as I know, we don’t have much influence over who we fall in love with.”

Taking another drag, Taemin cast his friend one short glance. Maybe Jongin was right, but it didn’t change anything. The second Taemin had realized that he had feelings for Jonghyun, he should have stayed away from him, but instead he had crawled back every single time Jonghyun had paid attention to him, burying himself between the other’s thighs, holding onto threads, ignoring that none of it was real. While he had fallen deeper and deeper in love, Jonghyun had only seen him as a hobby, a pastime activity, a distraction from his own demons. 

“Come on, there are other fish in the sea,” Jongin tried to cheer him up by giving his shoulder a playful push, Taemin snorting when he remembered how he had said the same thing to Jonghyun once. He had been so naïve back then. A part of him had always found it weird how hung up on Kibum Jonghyun had been, when it was so easy to see that Kibum was only playing with him. Why hadn’t he been able to see that Jonghyun was doing the same thing to him? 

“I don’t like seafood,” he replied and took one last drag. He pressed the cigarette out afterward and flicked it outside, licking his lips as he looked at Jongin. They had been best friends for such a long time, but Taemin felt like Seoul had changed him so much that it would be impossible for the other to understand what went on in his head. He didn’t even understand it himself. How was he supposed to express his state of being in a comprehensible manner when his thoughts were all over the place? 

“My sister always says that venting helps,” Jongin said then, walking in circles on the blue carpet covering Taemin’s floor, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “What do you get out of bottling up everything all the time? I can see that you aren’t okay and yet you keep silent about things like that.”

“And I told you, talking about it won’t change anything,” Taemin replied, frustrated, holding onto the handle of the window and swinging the pane back and forth to waft the smoke outside more quickly. Jongin was always about talking about feelings and emotions and Taemin blamed his two older sisters partially for that. Girls always seemed to want to talk about everything, even about problems that didn’t exist.

“Does it have to, though?” 

Taemin furrowed his brows and looked over at Jongin, who had come to a standstill in the middle of the room. 

“Not every conversation needs to end in a big revelation, Taemin; sometimes it’s good to just let it all out. We are not researching a cure for cancer.”

“But surely that would be more productive,” Taemin murmured and closed the window, as it was getting too cold in his room. 

“You can be such an ass sometimes.” 

Jongin licked his lips and then went over to Taemin’s bed, throwing himself on it, arms stretching up into the air. 

“Have you slept with him again?” Jongin looked over at him, unflattering double-chin in full view. 

Taemin sat down in front of the TV and grabbed his controller, ending the game to go back to the settings and choose ‘single-player’ mode. 

“I told you, too much has happened since we last talked about him.” He said it towards the TV rather than Jongin as he selected the worst team one could choose in FIFA; a loser team for a loser person. 

“Then go ahead, fill me in. I have nothing else to do.”

Taemin huffed. “I told you, there is no point –”

“If you don’t talk about it then I will make up a story myself; it’s that easy,” Jongin interjected, and the bed squeaked as he sat up. “So – the last thing I know is that you confessed and he stopped sleeping with you after that. So let’s see, _mmh_...” Jongin was silent for a moment, Taemin paying him no attention as he tried to focus on the game, not in the mood to have a conversation about his ‘feelings’. His ‘feelings’ had only gotten him into this mess.

“Okay, got it. Does he have someone else? Is he seeing someone else? That would sting, right? Imagine confessing to someone and then you not only get turned down, but the person shows up with someone else and fucks them right next to your bedroom. _Ouch_.” 

Wasn’t that what had happened with Jonghyun and Kibum?

“No,” Taemin sighed and tried to make his striker break the computer’s defense. 

“No? _Okay_. Were you dumb enough to sleep with him again, despite knowing that he only sees you as a friend?”

Taemin pressed his lips together and pushed the X button to pass the ball to another player. 

“Oh, it’s getting warmer. So what could have possibly happened that got you so upset?”

Jongin’s feet touched the floor and seconds later he sat down next to Taemin, crossed his legs, and leaned uncomfortably close, as if he was trying to look right into his friend’s brain. He always did that and Taemin hated it every time.

“You still don’t have X-ray vision,” Taemin said, agitated, and turned his head away.

“But I know no one as well as I know you.”

“Then you should know that I don’t see a point in talking about stuff like that.” 

“He got your hopes up, didn’t he? And now you’re feeling like a fool.” 

Taemin saw the grin on Jongin’s face from the corner of his eye, and an urge to hit his best friend boiled up inside of him. 

“I’ve never seen you so invested in someone. You took all break-ups in the past like a champ.”

“We didn’t break up,” Taemin said, short-spoken.

Jongin nodded with a hum. “ _Right_ , since you’ve never dated. But it felt like that to you, no?”

“Man, can you please stop? It’s pointless.” The controller slipped out of Taemin’s fingers and he sank to the floor, resting his head on his fluffy blue carpet. 

“We would probably be already done with the topic if you just talked,” Jongin said and nudged his foot against Taemin’s thigh, making him look up skeptically, not believing a single word the other said. They stared at each other for a moment before Taemin gave in with a sigh.

“ _Fine_ ,” he murmured and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he closed his eyes. “Long story short – yes, we started sleeping with each other again after I confessed. It’s – I’ve never felt so drawn to someone before in my life? It’s – he feels like a magnet to me. I can do what I want and he’s always there,” Taemin began slowly, but with each sentence that left his mouth it got easier, words tumbling out as he gestured around helplessly. “We basically did everything together, but our flat-mates – they all seemed to think he wasn’t good for me – and he always thought so as well, and –”

“Why’s that?”

Taemin sighed. “If I only knew. They treat me like a fucking child in the dorm and it sucks. Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me and no one seems to bother asking me what I want.”

“And what do you want?” 

The answer was easy. “I wanted him, but he didn’t want me.” Taemin had a lump in his throat and stared up at the lamp hanging from his ceiling, its shape blurring in front of his eyes. 

“Well, you can’t force someone to love you.” 

“I know. I’ve never said I wanted that.”

Taemin licked his lips and placed his hands on his stomach, Jongin lying down next to him, their shoulders pressed against each other.

“The problem is, I always hoped he had feelings for me – some that ran deeper than friendship. The way we acted around each other – it’s – not how you act around friends.” He turned onto his side to look at Jongin, one hand pressed between his thighs and the other used to bed his head on. “I asked him so often about it. I always wanted to have this conversation with him. I wanted to talk about feelings – at least once, but he kept dodging my questions every single time.”

“So he’s like you?” Jongin grinned at him. 

Taemin pulled a face. “No, because _I_ wanted to talk about it. We fought the night before I came back home. He has acted like a complete douchebag for the past few weeks and then he dared to call me a _spoiled brat_ and a _child_. _Me_!” He pointed at himself, still not believing what Jonghyun had called him. 

“ _Ouch_ ,” Jongin commented, Taemin nodding feverishly. 

“You know, he doesn’t have the balls to be honest with me even once, but calls me a child. But you know the worst part?”

Jongin shook his head.

“I told him that I’m going to give up on him – which he wanted me to do all along – but now – he keeps sending me messages – like – I don’t understand why he’s doing that? His behavior makes no sense.”

“What if he _does_ like you after all?”

“If that was the case I wouldn’t be here.”

He would be lying in Jonghyun’s arms instead, snuggled up against his chest, pecking his neck, smelling him – _loving him_. 

“Maybe we should go out instead of playing games all day, _mh_? To distract you a bit? Seungwoo wanted to hang out and throw a little party with everyone this weekend. It might help you to loosen up a bit,” Jongin suggested, combing a hand through Taemin’s hair. 

_Village parties_. They could only pale in comparison to what Taemin had seen in Seoul. When he pulled a face, Jongin gave him another push, trying to motivate him.

“It will be fun, come on. For old times’ sake.” 

_For old times’ sake._ How much Taemin wished he could go back to high school and live the simple life of a sixteen-year-old. 

It was past midnight when Jongin left and Taemin fell into bed, gazing up at the dark ceiling above his head. Adam and Eve had curled up next to him, their furry little butts pressing against his thigh as he wondered what he was supposed to do next. His life seemed so pointless. He had lost all drive and ambition, doubting his decision of wanting to study at university. Maybe he would have been better off becoming a farmer, tending livestock or growing rice. Moving to the city had messed with his life, with his morals, with his beliefs.

His hand unconsciously slipped underneath the blanket to touch his tattoo. _‘When I called you, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted’._ The lettering had healed nicely so far, Taemin caring for it by putting on ointment several times a day, scraps of dead skin already having come off on their own. He was about to turn on the lamp on his nightstand to take a proper look at the lettering when his phone started vibrating. With furrowed brows he glanced at the screen to find a notification from Instagram. He hadn’t posted anything on social media since he had arrived at his parents’ place, so he opened the notification in bewilderment, heart clamping when a familiar name popped up ‘ ** _@jonghyun.948_** _commented: You played that game? I was scared shitless after the first half-hour already_ 😨 _’_

The photo Jonghyun had commented on was from almost four years ago. Taemin’s first post on Instagram. He had turned 16 that year and was sharing a newly purchased game called ‘ _Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs’_ with the world – or, more like, with Jongin and five other friends from school who had followed him on Instagram back then. 

“What the fuck,” Taemin whispered under his breath and sat up when another notification popped up. ‘ ** _@jonghyun.948_** _commented: You had a schoolyard? With trees? Mine was on top of the school TT_TT’._

Taemin’s second Instagram post, which he had taken with the lousy camera of his old phone, was a selfie with Jongin in their school uniforms, both of them doing poses they had seen in American music videos and had considered cool at the time. Before Taemin had time to fathom what was happening, Jonghyun had continued to comment on ten other posts, leaving likes on every single one of them, from the sandwich Taemin had posted with a bad pun to the screenshots of a game he had been playing at the time and embarrassing selfies that Taemin couldn’t even remember having uploaded. 

He had no idea what Jonghyun was doing, but notifications continued to pop up on his screen and Taemin began to wonder if his flat-mate intended to leave likes and comments on all 156 posts Taemin had made. 

“What are you even _doing_?” he asked his phone, forehead deeply wrinkled and discomfort creeping upon him. Why was Jonghyun, who had so clearly shown that he didn’t care about Taemin, spamming his social media profile with comments like some creep? Because Taemin had ignored every single message the other sent him on KakaoTalk? Did Jonghyun expect him to answer any of his comments? Why was he browsing Taemin’s Instagram profile in the middle of the night? It made no sense and left Taemin incredibly confused.

 _‘What does it mean when someone keeps liking and commenting on all of your posts?’_ he typed and sent the message to Jongin in the hope that his friend was still awake and had an answer ready.

A response came five minutes later in the form of a picture. It showed Pinocchio with a growing nose and a text that read ‘[ _Me liking 6 of your pictures in a row does NOT mean that I wanna bend you over and eat your ass_](https://i.ibb.co/Hp9zJyQ/20201128-120947.jpg) _,’_ accompanying it.

_‘I don’t know, if I want a girl to pay attention to me I like her pictures. Why are you asking?’_

Instagram notifications still popped up on Taemin’s phone as he thought about what to reply, not sure what he should make of his flat-mate’s odd behavior. Jonghyun made no sense, had made no sense for a long time, but what was the purpose of all the likes and comments? Was he checking out Taemin’s profile for the very first time now? Had he not bothered to do so before? In over six months?

‘ ** _@jonghyun.948_** _commented: Taemin-ah, you’ve truly changed a lot in the past three years.’_ It was a comment on another selfie Taemin had posted, showing him with headphones on his ears as he looked sternly into his phone camera, smiling having been uncool at age 16. Jonghyun might have thought that commenting on Taemin’s posts would soothe his heart and make him talk, but it had the opposite effect, Taemin turning off notifications for the time being, in case Jonghyun planned to comment on every single photo Taemin had ever posted. 

_‘No reason, I was just wondering. ‘Night_ 🌙 _,_ ’ he answered Jongin and stared at his phone, taking a deep breath.

‘ _It’s Jonghyun, isn’t it?’_ Jongin’s next message read, followed by a, ‘ _Just checked your profile – Dude, I might not be an expert, but it doesn’t look like he has given up on you yet.’_

Taemin reread Jongin’s message several times, not knowing what to make of it. 

_It doesn’t look like he has given up on you yet._

Taemin turned his phone off then, not in the mood for further disruptions. Why was Jonghyun acting like he liked him all of a sudden when he hadn’t cared about him before? What was the reason for it? They had ignored each other for weeks, had argued each time they had tried to talk to one another and now Jonghyun acted like none of it had ever happened? 

_Again_?

Did he want to lure Taemin back in, only to drop him once more? Did Jonghyun enjoy seeing him suffer? Was this all one big game for him? Was Taemin's heart a field day?

Taemin put his phone aside and turned on his bedside lamp instead before rucking up his t-shirt to graze his tattoo with his fingers. It wasn’t peeling anymore, but the letters were still a bit shiny, skin taut on his ribcage, and Taemin was already wondering where his second tattoo should go. 

* * *

When Jongin had suggested joining the little get-together with old friends from high school on a Friday night, Taemin hadn’t expected to encounter the first girl he had ever been intimate with, but his friend shrugged his shoulders and said that a mutual friend had brought her along. Yoomi looked prettier than the last time Taemin had seen her in real life: long black hair falling in soft curls over her small shoulders, a dainty blue blouse, and black skinny jeans hugging her nicely. Although they had stopped hanging out after their break up, Taemin knew from Instagram that she had begun attending a cosmetology school to become a hairdresser. She had often talked about wanting to work for famous actors when the two of them had been dating, and Taemin was happy to see that she was still following that dream and hadn’t lost all ambition after graduating high school, as he had.

Taemin greeted her with a small smile from afar and raised his can of beer, Yoomi returning the gesture kindly, her lips tinted in a subtle shade of red. 

“I heard that she broke up with Hangyeol recently _. Just saying_ ,” Jongin pointed out after the two of them had been standing at the bar for half an hour.

The location was a former church building that had been reconstructed to offer the youth a safe place to gather and enjoy themselves, the beer they drank smuggled in by Seungwoo in empty cola cans, as the serving of alcoholic beverages was forbidden. The construction was old, the ceiling low, and the floor covered in big white tiles, a few colorful lights poorly affixed in the corners to give the slightest impression of a club, early 2000s music blasting through the speakers of an old boombox. It was a pitiful sight, and Taemin had a hard time believing that he had spent a lot of weekends here in the past, in search of some kind of entertainment in this backward-thinking place. 

“Why should I care?” Taemin leaned over to whisper into Jongin’s ear.

His friend raised his shoulders innocently and took a sip from his beer as his feet tapped along to BoA’s song ‘[ _Peace B_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfslE2pbmCk&ab_channel=SMTOWN) _’_. “We both know that you would _never_ approach a girl you don’t know,” he started and then discreetly tried to look over at Yoomi, who stood in a corner with some of her friends. “But you _do_ know her.”

Taemin frowned. “She’s my ex.”

“ _Yes_? And?” Jongin looked back at him, visibly confused by Taemin’s reaction. “She’s still a looker.”

“You’re being weird,” Taemin replied, taking a sip from his can of disguised beer as he glanced at the group of girls. Even now Yoomi was still the prettiest one in the room, some things not having changed at all. 

“And you’re being a prude,” Jongin teased him. “You’ve been banging your flat-mate for months but draw the line at exes. Who is the weird one of us two now?” 

Taemin licked his lips and gave Jongin a little push with his shoulder out of reflex, not needing another devil in his life to whisper nonsense into his ear and give him ideas he wouldn’t have come up with by himself. His intention of coming here had been to get buzzed, not laid. He had tried the _‘getting laid’_ method in the past and frankly, it hadn’t worked. 

“Isn’t it weird to have sex with one’s ex?” he spoke without thinking, eyes focused on the woman on the other side of the room. A bunch of teenagers occasionally obscured his view, dancing and hopping around, laughing loudly at each other’s moves. 

“I didn’t say anything about having sex. That’s on you,” Jongin grinned mischievously, Taemin knowing the other too well to trust him. “Talking is free and doesn’t hurt.” 

“But I’m talking to you already.”

“I’m flattered, but if I were you and had the chance of talking to her instead of me – I’d talk to her,” Jongin said with a cocky grin, then emptied his can and placed it behind himself on the bar. 

“You’re talking about my ex!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she was the prettiest girl in our year.” 

Taemin scoffed. “You’re such a lech.”

Clutching his heart, Jongin slung his arm around Taemin’s shoulder and pressed a kiss against his temple noisily. “I love you too.”

With a snort Taemin rolled his eyes and nudged his elbow against Jongin’s ribs, making the other flinch away with a disgruntled look on his face. Although he tried to ignore his best friend’s words, the bug had found its way into his ear, nestling in it, not letting him stop thinking about the possibility of talking to Yoomi again. They had parted ways in peace, were still on good terms, and they still pressed ‘ _Like’_ on each other’s social media posts from time to time.

It wouldn’t be weird to talk to her, and yet it took an hour and another can of beer before Taemin was courageous enough to move over to Yoomi and ask how she was doing. He wasn’t quite sure why he had wanted to talk to her in the first place. Maybe it was because he got nostalgic seeing her and remembered who he used to be, or maybe he wanted to forget the present for a while, forget that there was someone in another city he had run away from because he couldn’t deal with his feelings anymore. 

The way Yoomi talked and the way she gestured around with her hands was something Taemin still found as cute as he had back in high school. There was something very disarming about her smile and the way she tucked hair behind her ear. Their conversation was pleasant, not forced or pretentious, words falling from Taemin’s lips without him needing to think twice about what to say. They reminisced about the past, laughed about how awkward it had been when the two of them had first started dating, and talked about the present and what they were up to these days, the question of whether she was currently seeing someone naturally falling from Taemin’s lips after a while. When she shook her head and denied it with a soft smile, Taemin took a long gulp from his beer and nodded his head, his free hand stuffed deeply in the pocket of his blue jeans as he wondered whether he would be going to hell if he followed his best friend’s advice. 

Jongin had told him to loosen up, had wanted him to forget that there was someone else, and at its core this was good advice, but Taemin wasn’t too sure about the execution Jongin had in mind. The chances of Yoomi saying no were high, but what had Taemin to lose? Even if he fucked things up here, even if she slapped him across the face in front of everyone for being blunt, he would go back to Seoul again in the foreseeable future, not having to see her ever again. 

“It might be an odd thing to ask,” he began vigilantly, not sure if he wanted to say the question out loud when his ex-girlfriend looked at him with curiosity in her eyes. “But what if we leave and go somewhere else?”

Granting that Taemin had voiced a question that allowed room for interpretation, he was still sure that the message behind it was clear. What else could he have implied apart from sex? A visit to the zoo or a stop at a movie theater? Inwardly he prepared himself to be turned down, his cheeks heating up when a soft “Sure,” came from his ex-girlfriend’s mouth, leaving him flabbergasted.

He reacted with a short-spoken “Cool,” as his heart began to flutter in his chest and he wondered which gate to hell he had opened this time. If he continued to act this way, he would soon be challenging Lucifer for sovereignty over hell. Maybe he would be another angel who had fallen from grace, a victim of his carnal desires and his desperate longing to forget. Blaming the alcohol for his decision wasn’t an option worth considering, because he wasn’t even tipsy, every choice of his made with a clear mind, which made matters worse. 

“Just to be sure that we are on the same page –” he said hesitantly and gestured around with his can.

“I’m quite sure that we are,” Yoomi cut in before he had the chance to continue, a smile pulling at her lips. 

“ _Cool_ ,” Taemin repeated, losing his calm, his voice cracking as he realized that his foolish idea might become a reality. Suddenly he was sixteen all over again, knees shaking from nerves, the heat rising to his ears. That hadn’t happened with Jonghyun – _nor with Minho_. Was it because he was more relaxed around guys, or was it because he had asked his ex-girlfriend out of the entire population of South Korea if she wanted to go back in time and pretend like it was 2014 all over again? “Do you want to leave, then?”

He pointed clumsily toward the door, not having been this anxious in months, fearing that he might have lost all touch with how to act around women. When she nodded, he swallowed the rest of his beer in big gulps, and the two of them left the building soon after, Taemin not knowing what he was doing or what his idiocy might cost him in the end.

Taemin offered her his hand when they were outside and she took it right away, her palm incredibly small and lacking prominent veins on its back compared to the one he had held in the past few months. Well aware that having sex with his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t help him to turn off the pain in his heart, Taemin hoped that it would at least help to occupy his mind with something other than Jonghyun. It hadn’t worked with Minho, but Taemin didn’t want to give up yet, thinking that sleeping with a woman might do the trick. There was no way he would be able to compare Yoomi to Jonghyun, even if he wanted to. 

They took a bus to a love motel in a neighboring city, Taemin sending Jongin a message to tell him that he had left with Yoomi and receiving a quick response that read, ‘ _What was that about exes again?_ 😛’. Neither of them said much on the way, but Taemin didn’t mind; his brain was screaming at him not to do another stupid thing while his dick was already opening champagne bottles to celebrate. 

The motel was located in a small alley near the bus stop and had only ten rooms, Taemin booking three hours after navigating through an electronic menu board displayed at the entrance of the white building, not wanting to rush through anything. He paid with cash after swiping his ID through a slit in the door to prove that he was old enough to be allowed inside and received a key card in return, which fell into a little plastic box beneath the computer display. 

“Remember how we always wanted to go in here, but we were too young?” Yoomi smiled at him as they walked up the stairs to the second floor. The building was old and a little raunchy, nothing compared to the brightly illuminated love motels he had sometimes passed in Seoul near his university campus. 

“There wasn’t even a self-check-in back then,” Taemin noted. “I remember this old lady always sitting in a little booth near the entrance.” 

The hallway was quiet as they looked for their room, Taemin opening the door for his ex-girlfriend when they found it. It was small, a king-sized bed with white sheets building its center, set up in front of a studded black leather accent wall. There was a massive mirror to the left, a flat-screen hanging on the wall to the right, a bright red leather couch with an accompanying small wooden table, and a frosted glass door leading to an adjoined little bathroom. 

Fumbling with the key card in his hand, Taemin stared at the bed, wondering if they needed to talk before having sex. _Probably_.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he admitted, out of fear that Yoomi might expect him to be the Casanova his classmates at university had made him out to be. 

“Me neither.”

Taemin swallowed as he looked over at his ex-girlfriend next to him, who held a purse in front of her with both hands. He couldn’t tell if she was nervous or not as she took in the room, eyes halting at the frosted glass door. When Taemin had seen one-night-stands portrayed in films, there had always been a certain edge to it; passion, lust, the feeling of wanting to get the other person out of their clothes as fast as possible, but none of that was what Taemin was experiencing now. Certainly, he wouldn’t mind seeing Yoomi naked, but there were a lot of steps in-between ‘ _Hello’_ and ‘ _Wow – you’re naked’_. 

“I’m going to freshen up a bit,” she said to Taemin’s instant relief, his shoulders relaxing when she walked over to the bathroom and disappeared behind the door, giving him time to sit down and think.

He tested the firmness of the mattress by pressing his hands against it, not knowing what he was supposed to do when he heard the shower run in the bathroom. The sound of water made him wonder what he was doing in this lewd place, but he didn’t want to chicken out now, especially since Yoomi had agreed so casually to revel in old times together. _Maybe she still considered him cute after all._ The sex they used to have back in high school had been anything but great, but Taemin attributed it to their lack of experience. They had been each other’s first, and with his raging hormones back then, Taemin doubted that he had ever excelled at giving Yoomi a good time, so a part of him was hoping that he might be able to redeem himself. He didn’t want Yoomi to hang around with her girlfriends in ten years and tell them that her first boyfriend had been a complete loser who hadn't been able to distinguish between holes. 

He straightened up when she came out of the bathroom fully dressed again, the first two buttons of her blouse undone and a cute flush on her cheeks as she carried her jacket and purse and placed both on the couch. Their first time had started quite differently, more rushed. Yoomi’s parents had been out with friends, and Taemin had waited near the apartment building with a wildly beating heart until they had left. He had lost his virginity while the members of idol groups stared down at him from posters in his girlfriend’s bedroom, their stern expressions having put even more pressure on his shoulders. He had always been envious of them because Yoomi had told him that she would drop him the second one of her favorite idols asked her out on a date.

“I’m going to take a shower as well.” He gestured towards the bathroom to buy time before he would jump straight down Satan’s gullet, and passed Yoomi on his way, a sweet scent surrounding her. 

The mirror in the bathroom was steamed up, and hanging next to it was a small vending machine selling condoms, lube, and small toys. The vessel sink underneath looked cheap despite being covered in gold, something Taemin imagined he would find in a brothel – not that he had ever entered one. He hurriedly stripped, seeing Yoomi sitting down on the bed through the frosted glass door. Hopping under the showerhead, he lathered himself with body wash from a dispenser and let the water run into his mouth to rinse it out, hoping that he wouldn’t taste so badly of beer and cigarettes afterward.

Done in less than two minutes, he toweled his hair and body dry before he combed his hair back, gliding through the strands with his fingers with much more ease now that his hair was shorter. After putting his clothes back on, Taemin gathered up some coins from his wallet to buy condoms, naked feet touching the floor, his socks lying abandoned in the corner of the bathroom. He stared down at the pink package in his hand and tapped his fingers against it; a sperm wearing a condom on its head and surfing through waves was depicted on the front, with the words ‘strawberry-flavored’ written in the top left corner. 

_A surfing sperm_. What an odd way to market a condom brand.

Breathing in deeply, he screwed up his courage. There was no reason for him to hide in the bathroom while a pretty woman sat on a bed waiting for him next door. Taemin hadn’t thought that he would ever sleep with his ex-girlfriend again, but sometimes life took the strangest routes, and instead of sharing a bed with Jonghyun in Seoul, he was about to share a bed with his ex-girlfriend in a sketchy love hotel. 

Yoomi smiled at him when he stepped out of the bathroom and sat down next to her, both having their naked feet on the floor as he carefully placed the package of condoms between them. She took a glance at it before her eyes drifted back to Taemin’s face, her cheeks taking on a rosy color. 

“Here we are, then,” she said and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear again, a silvery snowflake decorating her lobe. 

“Should I turn on the TV?” Taemin asked, having run out of things to say, hoping that watching some television might help them to ease a little into the situation.

“ _Yes, sure_ , why not,” Yoomi replied, which led Taemin to get up from the bed and walk over to the little couch table to pick up the remote control.

He switched through the channels, not knowing whether the news, a documentary about wildlife in Bolivia, a movie from the 90s, a cheesy drama, or a rerun of a music show would set the right mood. In the end, Yoomi made the choice for him when she pointed out how cute the Tapir babies looked running after their mother in the documentary. So the two of them followed a Tapir family through the forest for the next half-hour while lying next to each other in bed, Taemin unable to concentrate on the squeaking animals on the screen as he tried to figure out how to progress from where they were now.

The situation reminded him of the time he had watched a movie in bed with Minho. He was sure that Yoomi wouldn’t make the first move and the knowledge of having to be proactive was burdensome. Having become so used to being around people who knew what they wanted and knew exactly how to get it, Taemin had completely forgotten how it worked the other way around. What he wanted – _was to forget_ – but how to accomplish that, he wasn’t sure of.

The documentary was showing a beautiful shot of an Alpaca herd when he finally slipped his hand nonchalantly over to Yoomi’s arm and inched a little closer as his fingers caressed her skin. He moved even closer when the touch caught her attention and she turned over onto her side to face him.

“ _Hey_ ,” he said a little dumbly and slid his hand down her arm until he could take her hand in his, wanting to reassure her – _and himself_. 

There was a little playful grin on her lips as she responded with, “Hey, handsome.” 

Taemin smiled. It was nice to hear words like ‘ _handsome’_ coming out of someone’s mouth for once, his whole being tired of having been called ‘ _cute’_ and ‘ _adorable’_ by his flat-mates ever since he had moved in with them. There was no noteworthy age-gap between Yoomi and himself, their birthdays only a month apart. They hadn’t seen each other in a while and yet there was a level of comfort between them that was only shared by people had known each other from a young age. 

Flattered by her words, Taemin carefully placed his palm behind her head to pull her closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his lips grazed hers for the first time in years. The sensation was nice; soothing, almost. There was no urgency to it as their mouths moved against each other, Taemin taking the lead by enticing her lips into opening up for him with the tip of his tongue. She tasted like fruits, perhaps having sucked on a vitamin drop while showering in the bathroom. 

Brushing her long hair aside, he kissed down her neck, fingers gliding down her side and coming to a halt at her hips. ‘ _For centuries Kiowa, traditional healers, have made offerings to the gods to protect local herds. Domesticated thousands of years ago, Alpacas and Llamas are now their only source of income.’_ Taemin listened to the voice of the narrator, needing to suppress a chuckle when the sound of Alpacas wafted through the speakers, their voices almost sounding like whiny little moans. It might not have been the best background noise to create a bit of erotic ambiance, but it made the situation more natural and less contrived. 

When Yoomi suddenly pulled away, hand resting against his chest, Taemin looked at her, perplexed, worrying that he might have done something wrong. 

“I recently broke up with Hangyeol,” she said in one breath.

“ _Okay_?” he offered carefully in response, his hand still on her hip, not quite sure why she wanted to share this specific information with him now.

“They always say, distraction is the best medicine.”

Taemin furrowed his brows. “Who is _they_?”

“Magazines,” Yoomi clarified and lowered her gaze, gnawing on her bottom lip. “So, yeah, I wanted you to know –” 

“That I’m the _distraction_?” Taemin smiled when a blush crept onto her cheeks. “I don’t mind. Let’s say I’m going through something similar.”

It wasn’t a lie per se. Jonghyun and he might never have dated, but the reason why Taemin had entered this raunchy establishment had been thanks to his flat-mate’s continuous indifference. A human was only able to bear so much, and while Taemin had tried to understand Jonghyun’s behavior for months, the other hadn’t given him the same courtesy. 

“A girl from university?”

Yoomi’s fingers stroked down Taemin’s black long-sleeved t-shirt, and he pulled in his stomach mechanically when her fingers reached the hem and slipped underneath it, his breath stuttering as he tried to concentrate on her words rather than her actions.

“Something like that,” he replied and pressed his lips together as he cast a look between their bodies, wishing for her hand to move lower.

“So we’re sitting in the same boat?” 

A finger aimlessly caressed the skin underneath his belly button, as if she was playing with him, persuading him, and it worked, the sensation going directly down to his cock.

“I guess.”

“Sorry to hear that,” was the last thing Yoomi said before she leaned over and kissed him, gentle and hesitant, her lips only pressing lightly against his, leaving it up to him to deepen it. Kissing her was _nice_ , smelling her was _nice_ , being close to her was _nice_ , making Taemin recall the good things about their relationship for once, the excitement she used to evoke in him – _still did_. The excitement was the same but the feelings behind it had changed, Taemin’s world revolving around someone else now and not her. 

He rolled her over as his tongue snuck inside her mouth, and he settled between her legs, both his arms resting next to her head, playing with her hair. Yoomi had been especially sensitive along her neck and ears in the past, so those were the spots Taemin went for after they broke apart, lips moving down to press against the skin and her hands coming up to hold onto his shoulders. A small little mewl made him harden against her, hips moving against her crotch to induce more of these lovely sounds. He liked the high pitch it had, so different from the low timbre he had grown accustomed to. 

One by one he peeled her out of her clothes, starting with the buttons on her blouse, his heart rate increasing when he unveiled a cute rose-colored bra with lace accents. He was having a hard time looking at anything but her boobs, a cute little mole sitting on top of the left one. He hadn’t seen, let alone touched boobs in real life in such a long time that he couldn’t even remember what they felt like, and he was almost too eager to restore his memory, fingers itching.

Kneeling on his haunches, he got rid of his long-sleeve as swiftly as possible while she sat up to get out of her jeans and unveiled a pair of cute-looking panties. They didn’t match her bra, being baby blue with white stripes, but Taemin didn’t mind the sight at all, getting excited either way. As if on autopilot, he pulled off his pants and threw them to the floor, creeping closer when the only thing he still wore were his dark green checkered boxers. 

He smiled at Yoomi wordlessly and swiped her hair out of the way to kiss down her neck, fingers carefully sliding down the straps of her bra before he moved over to her back and tried to unhook it, Yoomi helping him out with an amused grin when he struggled with getting it off, his fingers shaking too much. Taemin had never been good at that part. Leaning back when the bra bid its farewell, his eyes were magically drawn to her breasts, hands coming up to cup them, his dick twitching when he felt their weight in his hands. 

“Still a boob person?” she presumed with a light chuckle and propped herself up on her hands. Taemin interpreted this as an invitation, his mouth instantly leaping onto her chest, lapping at it with fervor, small moans getting caught in his throat as he believed that the gates of heaven had finally opened for him again after such a long, strenuous drought.

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathed against her skin, squeezing her breasts gently, his mind in boob dreamland as he buried his face in-between them, trying to cover each with kisses. It took a lot of discipline to move on and involve the rest of her body as well, when he realized that they had only booked the room for a limited time and he couldn’t possibly spend the majority of it sucking on her breasts, though there was a part of him that wouldn’t have minded doing just that. 

Yoomi was soft all over, her stomach and her thighs looking so inviting that Taemin wanted to snuggle up against them and kiss even the tiniest patch of her skin. He enjoyed her little sighs whenever he did something she liked, and sucking on her inner thighs caused them to be more consistent. Pushing her thighs a little further apart, his fingers slid over a wet spot in her panties and she shuddered in response, rocking her pelvis against his fingertips.

He bent over to mouth her through the fabric, breathing her in and trying to memorize her scent. Women were incomparable to men, he realized as she lay in front of him, head bedded on a pillow. Their overall smoothness made them appear so delicate, like something Taemin wanted to treat with the utmost care so it wouldn’t break, while the thought of treating Jonghyun like a fragile item while they had sex had never crossed his mind, all the hickeys Taemin had left on the other’s body over time being his silent witnesses. 

“Can I eat you out?” he asked as he held onto her legs, lips spreading open-mouthed kisses over her inner thighs, nibbling on the soft skin. He wanted to do a good job so badly; wanted to satisfy her, let her know that had learned how to use his tongue, how to multitask, how to please someone, although he doubted that his gathered knowledge about sucking cock would be helpful. 

Yoomi nodded zealously, as if she had been waiting for him to ask, perhaps having repressed the memory of how terrible Taemin had been at it in the past. 

“Yes, _yes_ , of course,” she breathed, and Taemin helped her to wiggle out of her panties before she opened her legs for him, inviting him in. Taemin was mesmerized, heart plunging to his crotch, the head of his dick straining against the fabric of his boxers.

She was wet and open, hair neatly trimmed, and Taemin skidded closer to let his fingertips glide over her; feeling her, watching her. He observed her reaction when he let his fingers slide in-between her lips, warmth and wetness covering the tips, his dick reacting immediately from the mere thought of diving between her thighs. Letting his fingers slowly begin to move in circles around her clit, he leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Just tell me what you like, _okay_?” Taemin asked her in a whisper, something he would never have dared to say out loud in the past because he would have considered it straight-out embarrassing. “Help me; I want to make you feel good,” he added and kissed her while his fingers moved tenaciously in circles, stopping from time to time to gather up some wetness and make his movements slicker. She sighed into his mouth and nodded, her hands wandering to the back of his neck to comb through his damp hair. 

“I like _this_. Feels good,” she responded and smiled up at Taemin, who grinned down at her, nudging her nose with his before tugging slightly at her bottom lip with his teeth, her pelvis arching into the touch when he switched his fingers around, letting his thumb draw the circles while his middle and ring finger glided lower and slipped inside of her. 

“You’re so wet already,” he pointed out with a breathy voice as he kissed down her neck and sucked on her skin, Yoomi pressing herself up against him, her hands wandering down his back, nails digging into his skin. It fascinated him, how he had never talked like this to a girl he had been with, but remembering how much it had turned him on whenever Jonghyun had voiced the obvious, it only seemed natural to copy him and apply it to this new situation. Maybe the other had taught him more about intimacy than Taemin wanted to give him credit for. 

Kissing down her chest, he gave her left nipple a little suck before moving lower, grazing her stomach, tongue licking a trail to her hip. Her taste was rich and he moaned deep in his throat when he reached his final destination, pulling her closer after his arms encircled her thighs. It wasn’t like he had missed anything about being with a woman while he had been with Jonghyun, but being here, lying in-between Yoomi’s legs, was a nice reminder of why he had liked being with one.

“Try the tip of the tongue when you go around – don’t – flatten it,” she advised after a while and moved her forefinger around in the air in circles, her other hand buried in Taemin’s hair. Thankful for instructions, he put them into action right away, licking around the clit with the tip in varying pressure, waiting for a reaction, feeling her tense underneath him.

“Yes, better – _much better_ ,” Yoomi breathed, aroused, Taemin hardening even more from the praise, his dick rubbing uncomfortably against the mattress. When he added his fingers to the mix, something he wouldn’t have been able to do only half a year ago due to his lack of multitasking skills, Yoomi began to writhe beneath him and opened her legs further for him. He crooked his fingers as he moved them inside of her, lips sucking on her clit, which had come out of hiding behind its hood, making it easier for him to stimulate it. 

He wanted to touch himself, wanted to bury himself between her legs when the grip on his hair tightened and her moans grew louder. When he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, she began to whine impatiently. ‘ _The best part about having sex is to make each other feel good, to see each other in pleasure_ ’, his flat-mate’s voice floated through his head, and Taemin wanted to agree with him, wanted Minho to know that he was right for once, that there wasn’t anything better than seeing another human being enjoy themselves, than helping them to heighten that pleasure. 

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” she whined with a little sharpness to her voice, which Taemin considered to be a good sign. If she didn’t want him to stop, he was doing something right, _no_? 

“Sorry,” he apologized and wiped her juices from his lips and chin before going back down, moving his tongue a little more to the left.

When he felt her pulsating in front of him, he picked up his pace, noticing how the muscles in her thighs and butt tensed up. She panted and pressed him closer with her hand, arching into his touch, Taemin feeling almost like he was suffocating between her thighs. Judging by her body’s movements, by the sounds leaving her mouth, he expected her to fall over the edge pretty soon, and parts of him wanted to rejoice in his victory over his ex-girlfriend’s clitoris, but her orgasm kept them waiting. It didn’t want to come, hid deep inside of her, numbness in his tongue and a certain tiredness taking hold of his jaw as minutes, _and minutes,_ passed without anything happening, without her reaching the height of her arousal. 

“I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to come like that.” 

Taemin looked up when she spoke, tongue sweeping over his lips, tasting her. It wasn’t something he could relate to, being able to come whenever, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, how to assist her.

“Can I help you to get into the _right_ _headspace_?” he asked with caution and sat up, neck hurting from lying in an uncomfortable position between her legs for so long. She shook her head with a reassuring smile and then looked down at his crotch, cutely tilting her head.

“Do you need help?” she probed, making Taemin’s ears heat up as he realized how ridiculous he must look with a boner so hard in his boxers that it would be easy to hang a coat hanger on it. When he nodded vaguely, she got up on her knees and skidded toward him, his breath hitching as she ran her palm along the outlines of his dick. “What would you like me to do?” 

It was a question Taemin had at least a hundred answers to, seeing Yoomi in a dozen different angles and positions flickering in front of his inner eye, his dick only jerking more at the thought and precum wetting his boxers. He had expected that the past few months would have toughened him up a bit to not react so easily to sensations, but his dick still acted like a pubescent teen at times, wanting way more attention than Taemin was able to offer. It seemed to have a mind of its own, not agreeing with many things Taemin’s brain came up with.

“Whatever you’d like to do,” was the answer he went with in the end and watched her bite her lip as she hooked her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and pulled them down over his dick and his butt. His cock jerked as air wafted past it and his breath caught in his lungs as she took it into her hand and began to jerk him off as if it had only been a week since she last had done that, fingertips touching the head to smear the precum around, her face coming closer to kiss along his collarbones. Her grip around him was weaker than what his dick had become accustomed to, but he enjoyed the movement of her hand that made her boobs jiggle in the rhythm of her strokes, her hand so small in comparison to Jonghyun’s and Minho’s that it made his dick appear much bigger.

Not able to hold back from touching her breasts, he caressed them, enjoying how they felt in his hands; the perfect size to fit his palms, the tips hardening when he brushed over them with his thumbs. 

“I like that tattoo you have here, looks _sexy_ ,” she pointed out after sucking on his right nipple with her teeth, a low hissing sound falling from Taemin’s lips. He couldn’t help but think about Jonghyun when she said that, curious to know whether his flat-mate would like it too.

He was grateful when Yoomi grabbed a condom and rolled it down on him instead of continuing to tease him, bringing his attention back to her. Pushing him down to the mattress, she pulled his boxers to his ankles and threw them next to the bed before going down on him, sucking the head between her lips to taste him. There was a certain finesse she lacked, but knowing now how difficult it was to give head, Taemin didn’t want to complain as her lips felt good around him, soft and plump and wet. Propping himself up on one hand he used the other to keep her hair out of her face and get a better look, her cheeks hollowing as she took him in and bobbed her head. 

Maybe he had sucked cock more often in his life than Yoomi had at this point. It was a ridiculous assumption to have, but Taemin couldn’t shake it off, thinking of all the times he had gone down on Jonghyun because he wanted to get better at it _for him_ , because he had wanted to please _him_. He stroked her head encouragingly and closed his eyes, frowning when Jonghyun was the first image to pop up in front of him. 

_Why couldn’t he at least have sex in peace?_

It was unnerving that the other was everywhere in his head, occupying every bit of his being. He hated Jonghyun for it and he hated his brain for associating everything with him, for constantly feeding Taemin images he didn’t want to see. It seemed like Jonghyun was imprinted on the back of his eyelids and every time he closed them, he was all Taemin could see. 

When Yoomi let his dick slip out of her mouth with a plop, Taemin opened his eyes again, her lips glistening with saliva, small mouth turned into a pout. 

“You’re so quiet. Everything alright?” She knelt between his legs and stroked his thighs before coming up a little higher and placing her legs on either side of Taemin’s hips, taking his dick back into her hand. 

“ _Yes_ , I was just enjoying the view,” Taemin lied to not hurt her feelings and lay back into the pillows to watch her tempt his dick with her vagina, letting the head glide along her folds while moving her hips back and forth. It was a sight worth watching and he loved the sensation it left in his loins, his hands reaching out to stroke the softness of her thighs.

As she took him in, his mouth fell open, dick jerking inside of her, pleasant warmth engulfing him. He followed her movements with his eyes, saw how his dick disappeared and appeared again as she began to ride him, shifting her weight a little to the back for a better angle. He recalled the very first time Jonghyun had ever sat on his dick, how Taemin had missed looking at a pair of boobs and how odd it had been to see another dick in the game. Now his feelings were quite contrary: there seemed to be something missing, although he appreciated getting a good look at her breasts as she sat on top of him. 

He rose to embrace her with his arms, hands going down to her butt to squeeze it and spread it more open as his lips first found hers and then went back down to engulf her breasts. He groaned around her nipples when she pushed down on him a little more forcefully, apparently having found a nice angle to fuck herself on him.

“ _This is good_ ,” she breathed heavily and held onto his shoulders with her hands, Taemin making her moan louder as he sucked on her, nursed her nipples, pulled at them with his lips, her fingernails scratching along his skin, making it burn. Taemin listened to the documentary in the background to distract himself from coming as she shoved him deeper into the mattress with her pelvis, pushing him down again so he lay flat on his back, putting almost unbearable pressure on his dick, his mind falling into the gutter. Reaching out to hold her hips, he watched her, lips parted as she moved in his lap, black hair falling over her shoulders, teeth buried in her bottom lip, eyes closed as she worked herself hard on him. It was a beautiful view, and an exciting view – almost _too exciting_. 

Taemin was about to ask her to slow down a bit, to prolong the sensation for a little longer, when he felt her coming around his dick all of a sudden, hips moving more urgently, pressing him down with her weight, the rhythmic tightening of her muscles around him feeling unbelievable. Her nails clawed into his stomach painfully as she sailed through her climax, a soft, breathlessly repeated “ _Shit_ ,” falling from her red lips at last.

She came to rest on top of him, rosy cheek nestling against Taemin’s chest, panting and smiling as she stroked his neck, her décolleté covered in red splotches. Taemin still experienced the waves of her orgasm going through her body and wrapped his arms securely around her, Yoomi’s walls spasming, tightening, body quivering in his embrace. He wanted to jubilate and a beam appeared on his lips as the thought crossed him that his dick had helped her to come. His dick of all the dicks in the world. It wasn’t what he had initially imagined, but an orgasm was an orgasm – no matter how it had been achieved. Compared to his hormone-driven teenager brain, at least he had lasted longer than ten seconds inside of her without coming. Some people might have referred to it as a sign of growth and Taemin did as well, proud of himself in a way.

“Right headspace?” he asked her while she still breathed in deeply, his hands gliding up and down her back, goosebumps covering her skin.

Yoomi grinned dreamily at him without saying anything and Taemin rolled them over easily, slipping deeper inside of her when he pushed back in. He started slowly at first, kissing her lazily, and felt her tongue tease his mouth, heat accumulating in his belly when she spread her legs wider for him; her body being so kind to him, submitting to him so easily. Taemin lost himself in her heat, hands placed on either side of her head as he thrust into her and tried to step up his game, pelvis working harder, skin slapping against skin echoing through the room, his body moving in a quicker tempo compared to the one she had chosen before.

He paid close attention to her moans and sensed her hands on his back, which went lower and lower until they could grab his butt and pull his body closer. His eyes were glassy, heart racing in his chest as he got dizzy from the sensation of being inside of her. A peek to the side let him look at himself in the mirror on their left, the visual so surreal, it was as if he was watching two strangers having sex. It didn’t feel like it was him lying on top of that beautiful woman, the image so unnerving that he had to look away again, his eyes meeting Yoomi’s; soft, brown, and kind. 

There was history here; a connection that might last forever. This was incomparable to the sex he had shared with Minho. All Taemin had had on his mind back then was the wish to forget, to lose himself in ecstasy. Minho’s pleasure had been subsidiary in that regard, nothing Taemin had concerned himself with because he had been certain that the other would do as he pleased and make sure he got his ‘ _money’s worth’_. The sex had been good but mechanical, no feelings involved, no strings attached, no future to build, no past to dwell in.

Sleeping with Yoomi, on the other hand, built upon a shared history: they weren’t strangers nor friends but _past lovers_ – high school sweethearts; each other’s first. While the purpose of them sleeping together was to forget someone else, their bodies knew one another surprisingly well, adjusted to each other easily; still matched in a way. Taemin wanted to make his ex-girlfriend feel good, not only himself; he worked hard for it, gave everything he had to offer except for his heart, which already belonged to someone who didn’t deserve it. 

When he was about to come, he closed his eyes, seeing Jonghyun lying in front of him, his emotions crushing him as his climax hit him hard, merciless. He kept his eyelids shut tightly, not wanting to think about Jonghyun while riding out his orgasm, but he saw his aroused face in front of him regardless, groans leaving his lips, Jonghyun’s name hovering at the tip of his tongue as he heard his own name falling from Jonghyun’s lips, resonating through his skull, driving him near insanity, fingers fisting the pillow Yoomi’s head was lying on. It didn’t matter if he slept with a man or a woman – Jonghyun was just _there_ – _everywhere_ – _always_ – like a demon keeping his body in captivity, letting it starve in a cell deep down in a basement – maybe in hell.

A few more strokes of his pelvis and Taemin halted to try and regain his breath, burying his face in the crook of Yoomi’s neck, inhaling the sweetness of her perfume still lingering on her skin, which was so unlike Jonghyun’s scent. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and then another before he pulled out and flopped down next to her on the mattress to remove the condom, trying to figure out where to discard it, not seeing a trash can anywhere. 

He held his chest as he tried to calm down, Jonghyun’s face still flickering in front of his eyes like the sparks of a bonfire even when he opened them again. Cursing himself, Taemin didn’t understand how he could think of that heartless idiot when there was a woman with cute boobs lying right next to him. 

“I’ll – _I’ll_ throw this away quickly,” Taemin explained awkwardly when he got up from the bed, still-wobbly legs carrying him over to the bathroom. He didn’t feel sated, didn’t feel fulfilled, the sensation of reaching his orgasm already disappearing into the night; a moment of bliss, short and fleeting.

“Tell me about her,” Taemin heard Yoomi call over as he wrapped the condom up in some toilet paper and threw it into a bin next to the toilet. 

“Who?” he called back with a frown and wetted the towel he had previously dried himself with to clean his face and his crotch in front of the sink.

“Your crush from university, or ex-girlfriend or whatever. Is she in one of your classes?” 

Taemin gnawed on his bottom lip as he patted the towel against his groin, examining the scratches Yoomi had left when she had come; four streaks on each side of his belly button going down for about three centimeters. He could simply make up a story and go down the route he had chosen for his classmates as well, but he didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t want to lie about Jonghyun’s existence anymore, didn’t want to hide it in front of someone he had trusted for a long time, who hadn’t even told any of her friends how terrible their first time had been. Besides, everyone should know what a heartless idiot he had fallen in love with – with address and telephone number at best, so they could all block him before he could break their hearts as well. 

“No, it’s one of my flat-mates,” he admitted and looked up at the mirror, seeing his reflection in it. His hair was damp and tousled, his skin flushed, almost glowing. He looked more alive now than he had in the past few days – _weeks, even._

“ _Huh_ , I didn’t know they had mixed dorms these days.”

Taking a deep breath, he hung up the towel and padded back into the room. Yoomi was lying underneath the blanket now, her beautiful body hidden.

“Well, they don’t,” Taemin replied in a murmur, heart plunging into his stomach. Yoomi was the first person besides Jongin that he somewhat came out to, and the tension inside of him was unnerving. He wasn’t even sure what that meant, ‘coming out’? Taemin hadn’t thought about this matter much, too busy nursing his heart and keeping it away from further harm.

He watched the gear wheels rattle in her head as he walked back to the bed and slipped under the blanket as well, her eyes narrowing at first with a puckered brow before she suddenly looked at him and asked, “It’s a guy?” 

Taemin hesitated before answering with a soft nod and pulled the blanket up to his neck. At first she didn’t say anything, the tension in Taemin rising, hands getting clammy, regret bubbling up inside of him. 

“Do you mind?” he questioned then, sighing in relief when she shook her head.

“No, should I?”

Taemin shrugged. “I don’t know. Some people do.”

“I’m not _some_ people, then,” Yoomi clarified and turned toward him, inching closer until she could take Taemin’s arm and place it around her shoulder and snuggle up against him. “I guess he has good pecs.”

The teasing tone in her voice made him snort and he agreed with an embarrassed hum.

“You’re so predictable,” she wheezed and turned onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows, giving Taemin a perfect view of her chest as the blanket slipped from her shoulders. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Taemin said, his gaze switching back and forth between her eyes and her breasts. 

“What? That you like a guy or that you like boobs?” 

Taemin pulled a face and then reached out to cradle her right one in his hand, envying women for owning a pair they could play around with all day. There was something very soothing about simply looking at them.

“Preferably both.”

She tilted her head and let one finger glide over his side, making him tremble. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

His thumb circled her areola absentmindedly, the flesh hardening under his touch, the peak pressing against the pad, his lips craving to suckle on them again. 

“Sooa had bigger boobs.” Yoomi looked down at herself and pressed her boobs closer together, Taemin frowning in return. It was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. His last ex-girlfriend.

“ _Sooa_?”

Yoomi hummed and rolled back onto her back, reaching for one of Taemin’s hands to place it back on her boob and move it around a bit. She had always loved doing that in the past and Taemin had always loved obliging. 

“I was so jealous of her, you know.” Yoomi turned her head towards him, Taemin slowly rotating his hand on her breast, loving its squishiness. There had never been anything sexual about it for Yoomi in the past, although Taemin had turned hard each time she placed one of his hands on her chest. 

“ _Jealous_?” Taemin raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on his elbow.

Yoomi nodded. “Yeah, we had only broken up two months prior and suddenly you started holding hands with her. I was furious.” 

Taemin chuckled and inched closer, his hand moving over to her other boob and squeezing it lightly. “It didn’t show. Didn’t you start dating that jock from the year above us a few weeks after we stopped hanging out?” 

“ _Jaehyun_? No, I wanted to make you jealous, but you didn’t seem to care at all – like – _zero_. All we did was hold hands,” she explained, sounding offended. Her make-up hadn’t survived their interlude, black smudges visible underneath her eyes. 

“But you thought it might be better if we broke up,” Taemin claimed.

“And you agreed without hesitation!”

There was a sulk on her lips now and she grabbed for Taemin’s hand to press her palm against his. Taemin’s hands were small, always had been, but hers were tiny and he had always called them ‘baby hands’ in the past to annoy her. 

“You were my first boyfriend, Taemin. I thought we would get married, have kids, and live in a nice house. Girls don’t forget their first love so easily. I’ve only dated Hangyeol since then.” She flicked his palm, the sensation less painful than she had probably intended it to be. “And then Sooa, of all people. I hated her so much.”

Taemin snorted, wrapping his fingers around her palm. “What about her? She was nice.” 

“ _Nice_?” Yoomi rolled her eyes. “She was a snob.”

Taemin didn’t think she was but wasn’t in the mood to argue about something he had left in the past. In contrast to Yoomi, he didn’t follow Sooa on social media anymore and didn’t know what she had done with her life after graduating from high school. Their break-up hadn’t gone as smoothly. Taemin had broken up with her and she hadn’t taken it well. 

“Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?” He changed the topic and Yoomi shook her head but gestured to a sign on the door.

“I don’t, but the motel does,” she said, the sign showing a cigarette that was crossed out with the words ‘ _No smoking’_ written underneath it. 

“If the police happen to stand in front of the door in the next five minutes, I’ll tell them it was me,” Taemin kidded and got up from the bed again to make a short trip to the bathroom and take out his phone and his pack of cigarettes from the pockets of his jacket. Throwing the phone onto the mattress, he stood in front of the bed to light himself a cigarette, Yoomi getting up from the bed as well and giving him a quick once-over when she passed him on her way to the bathroom.

“We really should have dated later in life, Taemin. You’re looking quite hot now,” she noted playfully and let the door to the bathroom fall shut behind her, her body growing hazy behind frosted glass. 

The compliment made his chest swell up and he looked after her with a tiny grin, cigarette hanging between his lips. He picked up her bra from the floor before lying down in bed again, resting his back against the headboard. Fingers gliding over the lace, he held the bra against his chest to see how much it would need to grow to fill the garment out. After deciding that this could never be accomplished naturally, he reached for his phone and looked at the screen, to find new messages from Minho and Jonghyun displayed. He heard the shower running when he opened Minho’s messages first, his flat-mate only telling him that he had met up with Jeni again and that it had been – quote – ‘ _very nice’_ , which Taemin translated to – the two of them having fucked. He smiled to himself and took another drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply into his lungs. 

Jonghyun’s messages, on the other hand, always had the same structure: asking Taemin if he was okay, asking what he was doing, asking him if he had – insert breakfast, lunch, or dinner – already, and ending everything with an ‘ _I’m very sorry –_ _about everything_ – _really’_. The latest set of messages had only been sent an hour ago, and if one were to browse through their chat history, they would quickly notice that Jonghyun had been talking to himself ever since Taemin had temporarily left Seoul.

Taemin hadn’t answered a single one of Jonghyun’s messages. He didn’t want to, didn’t _dare_ to, too afraid of facing reality. Answering Jonghyun would mean letting him back into his life, and Taemin already had a hard time keeping him out of his head; he didn’t need to complicate things even more. But for how long would he be able to keep up this charade? For how long would Jonghyun continue to send these regularly-timed messages until he would give up? Did Taemin _want_ him to give up? 

His heart clenched. 

Maybe this was for the best? A small pout formed on his lips as he thought about this question and he rubbed his temple, not knowing what to do. Maybe if Jonghyun knew that Taemin’s life was perfect without him, and that there was no need for him to bombard Taemin with messages, then he would finally stop sending them. 

Maybe a break – _a final break_ – a definite, brutal last cut was all it needed to destroy their bond forever; to end the vicious circle both were trapped in. Maybe their fight in front of the club hadn’t been enough after all. 

With a heavy heart, Taemin looked around, a sudden “ _Huh_ ,” falling from his lips when an idea popped up in his head. Without giving it much thought, he picked up the torn condom packaging from the floor and placed it next to him on the bed, along with Yoomi’s bra, checking his phone screen to see if everything was in view when he opened the front camera. Cigarette dancing on his bottom lip, he showed his middle finger to the camera, angling the camera so it caught the bra and condom wrapper next to him and cut off a little below the beginning of his pubic hair, to show that he was naked and having a good time. The red welts Yoomi had left on his tummy looked even worse on the phone screen, displayed in a brighter red. 

Taemin sent the very first photo he took along with the message, ‘ _What I’m doing? Following your example and enjoying myself_ 🖕’, not even thinking twice about it, convinced that this would show Jonghyun that he wasn’t dependent on the crumbs the other threw his way; the comments on his Instagram, the endless messages in his KakaoTalk. 

He wanted to put the phone aside the second he had sent the photo, as he didn’t want to seem desperate or like he even cared, but instead he stared at the screen, waiting for the little ‘1’ next to his photo to disappear. When it finally did, his throat felt unexpectedly taut, heartbeat quickening in his chest as he began to feel remorse over taking the photo and sending it to Jonghyun – _Jonghyun, of all people_. 

He waited for a reply – _any reply, really_ – but there was none, making him question if that had truly been the final straw. If so, that’s what he had wanted, right? A final cut that would destroy the bond they had tied, a final cut to delete all the memories they had shared. 

Looking up from his phone when he heard the door to the bathroom click open, he saw Yoomi come back in with a towel wrapped around her chest as she came around to pick up her panties and her bra.

“The next bus home isn’t leaving for an hour. Care to grab some snacks at the CU across the street?” she asked out of nowhere as she climbed back into her panties and pulled them up her thighs, Taemin looking up from his phone again. 

“Sure,” he answered half-heartedly and peeked at his phone screen again in the hope of finding a message displayed, but there was none, the feeling of being put on ‘read’ after a photo like that excruciating.

But why did he even care? He had wanted to put an end to it. If Jonghyun would never contact him again, then that was exactly what Taemin had wanted all along. He had no strength to fall into yet another of Jonghyun’s traps, too exhausted to start another round of push-and-pull that he would only lose. 

Both of them got dressed in silence, Taemin picking up his clothes from the floor and the bathroom, every glance at his phone leading to renewed disappointment without him fathoming why it bothered him so much. He had been annoyed by Jonghyun constantly sending him messages, and now that he didn’t send him any message, he was upset as well? Taemin didn’t understand himself. It hadn’t even been half an hour since he had very good sex with his ex-girlfriend, and instead of reminiscing about her beautiful body and the softness of her curves, he was already obsessing over someone who had been messing with his head for months. It simply wasn’t fair that everything Taemin did, everything he _thought_ – led him to Jonghyun in the end. 

The two of them left the love motel past 11 pm and stopped at the empty convenience store on the other side of the street, buying two cups of _ramyeon_ and pouring hot water over it at a self-serving station near the cash register before sitting down at a small plastic table near the entrance. It wasn’t a luxurious dinner, but Yoomi didn’t seem to mind, eating her cheese _ramyeon_ with a small smile on her face. She was still fun to be around. She had a lightness about her that was similar to Minho’s, which Taemin had always appreciated because it made it so easy to talk to her. 

“What’s his name?” she asked after a while, Taemin constantly staring at his phone lying on the table in front of him, waiting for the screen to light up.

“Whose name?” Taemin asked, distracted, pulled out of his thoughts as he looked up at his ex-girlfriend. 

“Your flat-mate’s.”

“It’s Jonghyun,” Taemin sighed, not having said his name out loud in a while. 

“So, what are you going to do about _Jonghyun_?” she asked curiously and slurped some noodles into her mouth. The sliding door opened, bringing a breeze of fresh air and a group of teenagers inside, who swarmed into the aisles in search of some snacks. 

Taemin shrugged as he kept an eye on the teenagers. “Nothing. Try to get over him somehow.”

“By sleeping with your exes?” Yoomi wanted to know with a raised eyebrow.

“That wasn’t planned,” Taemin pointed out and picked up some noodles with his chopsticks, holding the cup in his other hand, warming his fingers. He hadn’t planned to fall in love with Jonghyun either. If everything had gone according to plan, Taemin wouldn’t need to worry about anything in his life right now. The fluorescent light pipe above his head buzzed and he looked up at it, the bulb inside flickering unnervingly. 

“Show me a photo of him. I want to know what kind of guy you find attractive,” Yoomi said after a moment and nudged his shin with the tip of her shoe. 

Taemin’s eyes went from the light back to Yoomi’s face. “You don’t find it weird that I slept with a man?” 

“No. I mean – before we started dating, I thought you had a massive crush on Jongin, so I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, right? I mean, who you fall for,” she shrugged, Taemin first agreeing with her and then realizing what she had said first.

“Jongin? _Ewww_ – _No_ ,” he laughed a little too loudly, the group of teenagers turning their heads toward them in interest. Taemin quietened down immediately and then picked up his phone, not surprised when he saw that the other still hadn’t replied to him – probably never would at this point. Either Jonghyun was angry with him now, or he didn’t care anymore. 

With a sigh Taemin unlocked his screen and browsed through his pictures, pulling up a cute selfie of Jonghyun that the other had sent him. It showed him holding up a high school friend’s Corgi next to his face as he smiled into the camera, the text originally belonging to the selfie telling Taemin that Jonghyun would adopt 100 Corgis one day and live like the Queen of England. 

“Oh, he’s a soft boy,” was the first thing she said.

Taemin looked at her with raised eyebrows. “ _A soft boy_?” he repeated, not knowing what she was talking about. 

“Yeah, the ones who make you fall in love with them without you even realizing it at first,” she explained nonchalantly, while the teenagers walked over to the cashier with chips and sodas. “You can’t stop thinking about them at some point even though they haven’t even tried to make you fall for them.”

Taemin bobbed his head along to everything she said, agreeing wholeheartedly. If it came down to it, Jonghyun wouldn’t have been his first choice to fall in love with. 

“Yeah, that’s more or less what happened.” 

“He’s cute. Looks like a nice guy,” she said and handed him back his phone. “Is it too personal if I ask you why it didn’t work?” 

“He doesn’t like me – _not romantically,_ at least; that’s why.” Taemin forced himself to a smile, bitter and petty, lips thin as he stuffed his phone into the pocket of his jeans, knowing that Jonghyun wouldn’t reply anyway. He had received Taemin’s response and had simply decided to disregard it.

“Sorry to hear that, but you’re a nice guy, Taemin. If Soft Boy doesn’t know your worth, someone else will, I’m sure,” Yoomi said and leaned forward to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. 

_Was_ he a nice guy, though? Maybe he was simply unlovable. Maybe everything was his fault after all. Maybe Jonghyun wasn’t the problem – maybe _Taemin_ was.

“What kind of guy do you think I am?”

The sliding door opened again as the teenagers left the small convenience store and disappeared into the dark, barely any cars driving along the street at this hour, despite it being a Friday. Yoomi looked at him and then cocked her head, her eyes creasing as she grinned.

“I think you might be a soft boy too.”

Taemin snorted in response and fished the last noodles out of his _ramyeon_ cup before he placed his chopsticks aside. 

“I don’t have that kind of power over people,” Taemin admitted with a sigh and leaned back into the white plastic chair, while Yoomi’s nails clanked against the cup of noodles in her hand. If he did, he wouldn’t be sitting in a small convenience store in the middle of nowhere.

They spent the bus ride home in silence, Yoomi tired and resting her head on Taemin’s shoulder with closed eyes while he looked at his reflection in the window, the two of them sharing earbuds to listen to some music. At one point Taemin’s phone blinked up and he almost dropped it when he unlocked the screen in anticipation, only to sink deeper into his seat when he realized that Jongin had messaged him, asking if he was home already or if he was still having a good time with Yoomi. 

‘ _We’re on our way back. Another 30 minutes to go. Love the countryside_ ,’ he replied to distract himself from being buried by his thoughts.

_‘How many times?’_

Taemin rolled his eyes and sighed, casting a glance at his ex-girlfriend beside him. She looked cute, innocent.

‘ _6435242345543_.’ He chose the numbers blindly on the screen, adding a, ‘ _Come on, we’re not 16 anymore,’_ in a second message.

 _‘You people from the big city aren’t any fun!_ 😛 _’_

He smiled at the message and sent Jongin a simple but effective, ‘💩,’ shutting his best friend up. 

_‘Did it at least help to get that dude out of your system?’_

_That dude_. That dude, who didn’t deem it necessary to reply to his message; that dude, who had left him on read for over two hours now; that dude, who was most likely out partying and enjoying his single life, while Taemin sat on an old bus with uncomfortable seats, wasting too many thoughts about that dude – _once again_. 

‘ _No – not at all_ ,’ he admitted, wondering how many people he needed to sleep with to finally get rid of these useless feelings he harbored for his flat-mate. A clear number would be helpful – even if it was double-digit, he didn’t care, as long as it was something tangible he could cling to instead of swinging back and forth in limbo without knowing where to go. 

_‘Damn – if the circumstances were different I’d love to meet him so he can teach me his ways’_

_‘Thanks, man_ 💔 _You know how to cheer me up.’_

 _‘Want me to send you some porn? That might help_ 🤔’ 

_‘I’ll think I’ll pass. Another time maybe.’_

If real people couldn’t keep his mind off Jonghyun, how were videos supposed to do that? Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, he leaned his head against the cold window and looked straight ahead to the driver’s cab, the bus jerking and making questionable noises as it drove along the rural road, hitting bumps and potholes. 

Taemin got off the bus at Yoomi’s stop to walk her home. The air was fresh and crisp, the neighborhood in deep slumber past midnight, not a person or car in sight. He still remembered where she lived, the apartment block looking all too familiar, Taemin having walked Yoomi home every day after school while they had dated. 

“Thanks for tonight. That was _fun_ ,” she said as they reached the house, electric cables buzzing above their heads, Taemin’s hands stuffed deep into his black jacket. 

“Yes, it was,” he replied with a smile and came up closer to give Yoomi a hug, who wrapped her arms around him for a short moment before letting go again.

“Take good care of yourself, will you?” she told him then and poked his chest with her finger.

“I’ll try,” he responded and grabbed for her hand to intertwine their fingers. “You too, right?”

He squeezed her hand and then loosened his hold on her. 

“Always.” She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head, a habit she had carried from adolescence over to adulthood. “Let me know how things are going with getting over _Mr. Soft Boy_ , okay?”

Taemin nodded, lips pulled thin. “I’ll try.”

“Good night, then,” Yoomi said at last. “Maybe we’ll see each other at another party or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They smiled at each other and Yoomi turned around to walk over to the front door, Taemin raising his hand to wave at her when she looked back at him one last time. It was weird, waiting for her to walk inside and close the door behind herself, like he had done so many times in the past – as if he was taking a look at the past, watching Yoomi disappear in her school uniform instead of jeans and winter jacket.

He hugged his jacket closer to his chest as he walked home, his parents’ house only a few blocks down the road, wanting to use the time to think. When he looked up he saw stars shining brightly in the sky, much clearer and prettier than the night skies in Seoul. He lit up a cigarette as he strolled through the streets, his phone still not showing any message from Jonghyun. Maybe the other was at a club dancing around with strangers or maybe he was giving someone a blowjob in one of those stinky club toilets or maybe he had gone home with someone to get laid. The moon was fuller now, a bright crescent hanging in the sky, looking kindly down at him, comforting his restless heart. 

When Taemin finally reached his home, he slipped out of his shoes and greeted Adam and Eve, who had heard him coming in and rushed to the door. Getting undressed in his room, he didn’t bother to brush his teeth on the quick trip to the bathroom afterward and fell into his bed with a tired moan, phone still in his hand, staring judgingly at him.

 _Maybe_ he was too naïve. _Maybe_ he had always been too naïve in love matters. _Maybe_ that was the reason why he had fallen for Jonghyun so easily. _Maybe_ that was why none of his former relationships had worked. 

Putting his messenger ringtone to the loudest volume in the blind hope that Jonghyun might decide to contact him after all when he was done fucking around, Taemin tried to sleep, his eyes constantly falling onto his phone next to him in the dark, wishing for the screen to light up, to announce a new message, but the screen stayed blank, Taemin falling asleep from exhaustion at 3 am. 

It was around nine when he was awakened with a start by his phone, not realizing at first what had dragged him out of his dreams until he saw his phone blink up next to him on the mattress and grabbed it in panic, the case almost slipping out of his hands and falling onto the floor, his heart racing in his chest when he looked at the display. He didn’t want to get his hopes up again, fearing that Jongin might have sent him another message, anyone but Jonghyun, but then his eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat when he read, ' _I’m standing in the middle of nowhere in a village I don’t know. So please either come around to pick me up or send me directions to your parents’ place_.’ Attached to the message was a screenshot with GPS coordinates that pointed to the bus station in the center of Taemin’s small hometown, and all color instantly vanished from his face. 

It couldn’t be.

It wasn’t possible.

Jonghyun was here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yepp, it's a cliffhanger. I'm sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's already Monday here - so let's drop chapter 10 *drops chapter and leaves*
> 
> *comes back* I can proudly announce that with the upload of this chapter, Dorm Life is officially longer than You are Love - which is insane. 🤯 I never expected to write something for this fandom that is longer than this neglected baby of mine. But here we are and there are still five chapters to go. 
> 
> Some might be surprised by this chapter - or more by the content of this chapter, but that probably stems from the fact that I made everyone suffer for at least 6 chapters by now. lmao 
> 
> So - chapter 10 has all the JongTae - without having any JongTae at all - if you know what I mean (you probably don't - not yet at least - you will know after the chapter - I guess - I hope). I'm sorry it's midnight and I'm tired, so I should stop rambling and go to sleep. 
> 
> Happy commercialism day to the people who live in timezones following mine. ^^"
> 
> Sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger last time. Chapter 10 doesn't have one.
> 
> PS. [A valentine card dormlife!taem would probably send to dormlife!jonghyun](https://i.ibb.co/TmFNQ37/ilikeyoumore.jpg)

_Confusion, eternal dread, terror_ ; numerous feelings descended upon Taemin like a landslide, sweeping him up and tossing him around, burying him underneath, making it impossible to breathe. He stared at his phone, held it tightly in both hands, caught up in disbelief that Jonghyun had traveled several hours by bus to see _him_. To see _him. Just him._

It was folly. _Was he dreaming?_ What was Jonghyun doing here, so far away from Seoul? If he had arrived this early in the morning, it could only mean that he had taken a night bus. Taemin blinked. What if Jonghyun had decided to come here after Taemin sent him that stupid photo? Embarrassment licked wetly at his skin, turning his cheeks warm. 

When another notification popped up, his pulse rose and his hands got sweaty. The message included a photo that showed the old marketplace in the small town’s center, plain white booths selling fresh fruits, vegetables, meat, and a big assortment of flowers visible in the background, with the text _‘Hello?_ ’ attached to it. 

Taemin panicked, having no idea what to do.

 _‘What are you doing here_?’ he typed helplessly, the little ‘1’ next to his message vanishing as soon as he had sent it. 

‘ _Talking. I’m here to talk to you.’_

A sense of discomfort draped itself around Taemin’s shoulder and he slowly sat up to stretch out his legs, his heart pounding, screaming at him to get a hold of himself. _‘I’m here to talk to you.’_ _Now_ Jonghyun wanted to talk? After weeks of them avoiding each other while living one door apart? Jonghyun had decided that a bus ride through the night for several hours to a place he had never been before was needed to have a conversation with Taemin?

_‘About what?’_

Three dots appeared on the screen as Jonghyun typed, Taemin’s head filled with cotton as he impatiently waited for a reply. 

_‘I don’t know. About you? About us? About the night you ran away? About you turning into a literal fuck boy? Take your pick.’_

He read the message with Jonghyun’s voice in mind, picking out judgment that he didn’t think he deserved to receive from someone who had slept around town at Taemin’s age. The subtle nuance of shade Jonghyun had thrown at him via text was enough for him to disregard the other’s visit and not listen to whatever Jonghyun had to say, but in the end, he wasn't man enough to let the other gather dust at the bus station. He had come all this way to see him; it had to mean _something_. Taemin wanted it to mean _something_. A spark of hope crept up on him, slithered up his arm and disappeared into his throat, nestling itself in the crevices of his heart, cloaking it in warmth. 

_‘I’ll come to pick you up.’_

_‘Give me 20 minutes.’_

As soon as he pressed the ‘ _send’_ button he fell back onto the mattress with a whine, cursing himself for being so weak. He shouldn’t have answered, should have ignored Jonghyun as he had done for so long. _Wasn’t that better for both of them?_

Slowly getting up, Taemin took his time taking a shower and brushing his teeth, dreading their encounter, fearing that they might end up fighting again. He didn’t have the strength to continue like this. Jonghyun had followed him everywhere – had followed him into bed with Minho and with Yoomi – and now he even dared to follow him to his hometown?

Taemin’s parents weren’t home when he padded down the stairs, dressed in simple blue jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt, hair damp and unkempt. His father was most likely volunteering at church while his mother did her weekly grocery shopping. The family’s dogs were still there and jumped up from the couch in the living room when they heard him, yelping loudly and wagging their tails, and Taemin put them on a double leash to bring them along, hoping that neither Jonghyun nor he would lose their temper in the presence of his dogs. They were his buffer, his fluffy bodyguards to prevent another argument from happening in public like the one in front of the club not too long ago. Putting on a worn-out blue jacket, which was already missing a few buttons, he took a long breath and opened the door, the chirping of birds welcoming him as he stepped outside. 

He was already five minutes late by the time he left the house, undecided whether he should hurry up or walk at a slow pace to postpone the inevitable. It took him about fifteen minutes to reach the station by foot, his heart hammering faster _and faster_ in his chest the closer he got. Smoking two cigarettes on his way to calm down when he felt like throwing up, Taemin tried to occupy himself with something, counting the cherry blossom trees around him, some buds already opening shyly and flaunting their beautiful white and rose-colored petals, spreading their subtle scent. Spring arrived earlier in the south, was friendlier and not as harsh and unpredictable as winter. 

When the marketplace was right around the corner he halted abruptly, Adam and Eve looking up at him in confusion, not understanding why they had stopped. The white Maltese danced nervously around Taemin’s legs, trying to grab his attention while the brown toy poodle stared up at him through black eyes and sat down on his butt. 

“I’ll manage, right?” Taemin had no idea why he was talking to his dogs in the middle of the street, glad that no one was around to witness this young man losing his sanity in bright daylight. An exasperated sigh fell from his lips when neither of the dogs gave him helpful advice and he began to walk in circles, memorizing what he wanted to say. 

_‘Hey Jonghyun, long time no see.’_ He shook his head; that didn’t sound right. ‘ _Hey asshole, thank you for haunting my dreams and not letting me fully enjoy sex with anyone but you anymore.’_ Another sigh. Though it was the truth, it wasn’t something he wanted to share in public and nothing he wanted to share with Jonghyun either. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the time. He was late by twenty minutes and gnawed on his lip as he wondered what he should do. 

It took an eternity until he finally found the courage to overcome the last hurdle and enter the bus station with the adjoining market, feet reluctantly carrying him forward. He was surprised not to find Jonghyun sitting on any of the benches spaced out around the marketplace and the station, elderly gentleman occupying them in his place, wearing comfortable-looking leather shoes and polo shirts and sharing the newest gossip on a Saturday morning. Taemin’s head bowed in a polite greeting when he discovered one of his parents’ neighbors among them, Mr. Song, who used to give him a handful of freshly plucked strawberries whenever he came to visit the market with his grandma as a kid in the summertime.

Looking around, he got on tiptoes for a better view, seeing women with children stroll between the booths and vendors yelling around to sell their goods, but he couldn’t find Jonghyun anywhere, fearing everything had been a tasteless prank. In the end, Jonghyun wasn’t here; he had sent Taemin a photo he had found on _Naver_ , a sick joke on the charge of his feeble heart. Maybe Jonghyun had only wanted to test whether Taemin would cave in if it came down to it, to see whether Jonghyun still held him in the palm of his hand, Taemin’s heart so easy to sway when it came to him. The other had no reason to do that, but who knew what went on in Jonghyun’s head? He had no reason to be here either.

‘ _I’m here. Where are you?’_ Taemin texted him and turned around in a circle to possibly see the other’s head pop up from somewhere. The gentlemen on the bench nearest to him began to laugh loudly over a lousy pun, distracting him, but when he turned back around to focus, his breath hitched as Jonghyun emerged from a coffee shop nearby, looking like a modern punk version of the grim reaper in an assembly of black clothes: from the baseball cap on his head to the mask covering half his face, the oversized sweater with its high collar reaching down to his thighs, the leather jacket hugging his body, the skinny jeans which were ripped at the knees, to the pair of heavy boots that Jonghyun had been wearing all winter. Even the backpack he carried was black. 

With his clothes, he stuck out from the country people like a peacock in-between a sounder of pigs. In Seoul his outfit wouldn’t catch the attention of anyone; he would simply be seen as another university student who wanted to express his inner self with fashion before the work-life would ram its claws into him and force him into suits and polished leather shoes. But here a simple leather jacket could be seen as an uprising, Jonghyun a hooligan who intended to disturb the tranquility of their village.

He walked straight up to Taemin with two white paper cups in his hands, having no trouble spotting him in a crowd of elderly people. With every step he came closer, Taemin grew more uncomfortable, wanting to turn on his heels and run away to avoid the confrontation, _wanting to avoid_ looking into Jonghyun’s eyes, let alone facing him or talking to him. Despite his recent behavior, Taemin had never been the argumentative type, preferring to live in peace with the people around him. He felt like he was standing in a tunnel, the noise around him blending out, his heart hammering against his ribcage, concentrating on one thing only. 

“Hey.” 

The simple word hit Taemin like a truck, heart bursting from his chest as his knees began to tremble and he croaked out a delayed and dumb-sounding, “ _Hey_.” 

When Jonghyun held a cup towards him, he didn’t react at first, paralyzed, thousands of emotions making his head hurt. Had the other always looked this good? Star-struck, Taemin stood in front of him, wondering if their time spent apart had played a trick on his vision, or maybe it was his heart. The wind wafted past his nose, carrying Jonghyun’s cologne over on its back, a familiar sensation settling in Taemin’s stomach as he breathed it in, body wanting to lean forward and bury his face in the curve of the other’s neck. The spell still worked; it hadn’t lost its power over him despite everything that had happened, _despite_ Taemin’s resolutions, _despite_ his wish for change, _despite_ Jonghyun’s behavior. That scent had become his home, and although his mind didn’t want to step inside, his body wanted to – _desperately_. 

“Two packs of sugar and one milk, right?”

The question pulled him out of his thoughts, Taemin’s mind blank, nothing except for a murmured, ‘ _Yes, thank you’_ , falling from his lips. He felt small in front of Jonghyun as he remembered how they had parted ways, how he had ignored Jonghyun’s every attempt to contact him, a new upsurge of embarrassment heating his cheeks as he recalled what he had sent him in a moment of spite, revolt, and straight-out stupidity. 

Jonghyun pulled the facemask to his chin and crouched down, introducing himself to Adam and Eve with a soft smile and a high-pitched voice. He let them sniff his hand and cradled their small heads, tiny sparks appearing in his eyes as Eve nuzzled his palm. 

_Soft boy, soft boy, soft boy._

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Jonghyun pulled out a small bag of treats, the smell grabbing the dogs’ attention immediately, Adam fanning his tail, tiny feet lifting into the air as he stood upon his hinder paws like a circus dog and pretended to be a malnourished puppy that never got fed. The action made Jonghyun chuckle, and he played with the Maltese’s floppy ears, Taemin feeling jealous of the dog against his better judgment. To be a dog, getting patted by Jonghyun. _What was he even thinking?_

“It’s just dried beef. Is that okay for them?” Jonghyun asked, the question startling Taemin, who blinked and tried to pick up his ability to form sentences, which he had dropped when the other had greeted him. How was it possible for a person to have so much power over him? Taemin had tried so hard to forget him, to get over his feelings, to move on, to live his life, to go back to a time where Jonghyun hadn’t mattered more to him than his other flat-mates, but a single glance, a simple word nullified all his efforts. Sex with Minho, sex with his ex, running away from Seoul – _none of it mattered_. When running away from Jonghyun didn’t help, what was supposed to help? Running _towards_ him?

“They are not on a special diet or anything,” Taemin eventually said and added, “Do you always carry dog treats around?” 

The two dogs eagerly munched on the treats they were handed, Adam’s paws resting on Jonghyun’s knee. 

“No, I just hoped I would get to meet them.” 

The tone in his voice was more serious again, the smile he had in store for the dogs not one he wanted to share with Taemin. Jonghyun’s lips looked chapped, a red dot visible on his plump lower lip where he most likely had bitten off a piece of skin. 

Taemin hadn’t mentioned his dogs often in the dorm because whenever he did it made him miss them, but whenever his mother had sent him a new photo of them he had shared it with Jonghyun, who always said that he wanted to meet them. He most likely had hoped to do so under different circumstances. Taemin had hoped so as well. 

They each took a sip from their coffee after Jonghyun straightened up again, the two dogs scurrying around his legs, hoping for more treats. Painful silence hung between them, Jonghyun looking down at Taemin’s dogs while Taemin looked anywhere but his flat-mate. He wasn’t used to being so uncomfortable around Jonghyun, he’d never been, not even when they first met. They had gotten along well right from the start, and seeing what it had led to was heartbreaking. Why was the other here when all he did was entertain Taemin’s dogs? There were enough dogs in Seoul to entertain; there was no need to travel several hours by bus for it. 

“Why did you come here?” Taemin had already asked this question via text but he wanted to see if Jonghyun would call him a _fuck boy_ to his face.

“Because I’m worried about you.” The answer was short, insufficient, and Taemin couldn’t help but grimace. Jonghyun hadn’t cared about him for all those months, why did he do it now? 

“That’s not what you said in your text earlier,” he replied, irritation slowly bubbling up again, the need for a cigarette crawling up his throat. He cast a glimpse at Adam and Eve, both dogs oblivious to the conversation taking place, still staring up at Jonghyun. 

“Because I’m worried about you, I wanted to talk to you, and because you sent me a rather questionable photo instead of answering any of my texts, I decided to come here,” Jonghyun elaborated in such a pragmatic tone that Taemin felt guilt pop up for having sent that selfie in the first place. It had been dumb, he knew that himself. There hadn’t been a need for a photo, a simple text would have been enough, but he had to go that extra mile and put himself in a spot he didn’t know how to get out of. 

“Sorry about that,” Taemin apologized meekly and looked at Jonghyun’s mouth because he was too embarrassed to gaze straight into his eyes. He was afraid of what he would find in them. 

Jonghyun’s lips turned almost white as he pressed them together tightly, the small bloody spot disappearing. 

“I am still trying to figure out what the purpose was. Did you want to make me jealous?” 

“Jealous?” Taemin stared at him, puzzled, blinked once, _twice_ , and then shook his head and hands frantically. “No, no, _nooo_ – that’s not it. I just – I don’t know why I sent it. It was stupid,” he admitted. There might have been a tiny part of him that had wanted to make Jonghyun jealous, but how was he supposed to make someone jealous who didn't care as much about him as he cared about them?

“It was.” Jonghyun took another sip from his coffee. “Did you even think once about how the woman you slept with might feel at being used for something like that?”

Taemin swallowed, the tips of his ears heating up, which felt oddly exposed without being covered by hair anymore. 

“She wasn’t in the photo –” Taemin argued, but then paused to think and tried to put himself in Yoomi’s shoes, something he hadn’t even considered doing before. He didn’t know how he would feel if Yoomi had sent her ex a photo with Taemin’s boxers lying in the background. 

Jonghyun scoffed and shook his head, taking another sip from his coffee before he kneeled again and scratched Eve behind his ear. The other appeared as if he wanted to say more, as if he wasn’t finished with lecturing Taemin and wanted to make him feel even worse about the whole ordeal of his nightly activities with people so far away from Seoul, but he kept his mouth shut, his lips curling to a soft smile when Eve bumped his snout against his knee. 

“You have a tattoo now,” Jonghyun pointed out instead. He didn’t look up, didn’t even spare Taemin a glance, and got the two dogs another treat from his pocket, Adam and Eve munching loudly on them, not leaving Jonghyun’s side, abandoning their bodyguard duties for a piece of beef. The soft boy energy seemed to work perfectly on dogs as well. _Who would have thought?_

Taemin scratched his head, tempted to pull at the leash to get his dogs’ attention, reminding them that it was his face they farted into at night and not some stranger’s, who had stopped by with some treats. “I got it a while ago.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

This statement almost made Taemin laugh.

“We – didn’t talk much in the past few weeks, did we?” Taemin looked at his shoes now, black Converse chucks that were so old that Taemin feared eventually they would fall off his feet, a hole at the bottom of his left shoe causing his foot to get wet whenever it rained. “I thought Minho might have mentioned it.”

Jonghyun shook his head and still didn’t look up. He held his hand out to Eve and said “Eve, paw,” rewarding the toy poodle with a “Good boy” and a treat as soon as he followed Jonghyun’s request. “No, he didn’t. He probably thought that this piece of information wasn’t as important to share with me as the one of you two having sex.”

The spite in Jonghyun’s voice was so palpable that Taemin thought he could grasp it with both hands. He licked his lips and gnawed the bottom one. He sometimes forgot that he had been intimate with Minho at all. What had happened in the past few weeks felt like it had happened to someone else and not Taemin himself. It hadn’t been anything serious, Minho a mere valve for Taemin’s frustration and anger towards Jonghyun. 

“It was just once,” he clarified, not wanting Jonghyun to get the wrong idea. The sex with Minho had been good, Taemin would never dare to deny that, but that’s all it had been: carnal, soulless fucking, something Taemin had needed at that moment. Minho could have been anyone – even one of his other flat-mates. It wouldn’t have changed anything. 

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Jonghyun said in a low voice and stuffed the treats back into his pocket as he looked around. “Look, can we go somewhere? It’s weird standing around outside.” 

Taemin nodded, not wanting to be surrounded by too many people while talking to Jonghyun either. In Seoul, no one knew him, but this was the countryside. Everyone knew his parents, with his father being the director of the only middle school in town. He couldn’t decide whether he was dumb or reckless when he suggested going to his parents’ house, Jonghyun agreeing immediately and walking next to him as they set out on their journey. 

“You cut your hair,” Jonghyun noted after they had walked next to each other in quietness for a while, Taemin lost in his thoughts, instinctively running a hand through the strands. It was hard to believe that Jonghyun had come all this way to walk next to him and talk about hair. 

“My mom made me,” he shrugged, noticing a little smile tugging at Jonghyun’s lips from the corners of his eyes. Jonghyun’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, and Taemin wondered whether they were as warm as they used to be when he got to hold them.

“How did you find me here anyway? I’ve never given any of you my address,” Taemin said to distract himself from his ambiguous thoughts, not wanting to be lured in by that scent Jonghyun emitted and wrapped itself around him. 

“No, not your address, but you’ve mentioned your hometown before,” Jonghyun told him. “So I knew what name to put in when I searched for a bus ticket.” 

“What if I had ignored your messages?” Taemin’s fingers curled around his dogs’ leash when Jonghyun turned his head, their eyes meeting briefly, heart pulsing in his ears. 

“I would have asked around. Your father is the director of a school here, no? So someone would probably know your address.”

The nonchalance Jonghyun spoke with was daunting and Taemin directed his focus on the small dogs leading the way, who knew the way home like the back of their paws.

“What if I hadn’t opened the door?”

_What if…what if…what if…_

“Taemin-ah.”

There it was, packaged in a whiny tone with a little edge to it. It hadn’t been that long since the last time he had heard it, but it felt different. The way his name rolled off Jonghyun’s tongue hit him deep in his core, igniting something that he had wanted to bury and leave behind in Seoul. “Why did you send me that photo if you wanted to block me out of your life?” 

Taemin frowned, listening to the sound their shoes made as they hit the sidewalk with each step, cars passing them, some people waving at him through their car windows, neighbors and parents of previous classmates. This town was small, _so small_ , and running away from it had been the only thing on Taemin’s mind for years, but here he was, crawling back home as soon as things got difficult elsewhere. Maybe he was still a child after all. 

“I wanted a cut,” Taemin admitted honestly, looking up as the wind whooshed through the cherry blossom trees, their branches weighing heavy in the breeze. “You always said that I should enjoy myself – so I did.”

Jonghyun snorted, slowing down in his steps, but he didn’t come to a halt completely. “You never listened to me and the one time you do, you think you need to celebrate it by sending me a photo of you lying naked in some bed?”

Two steps ahead, Taemin felt heat sneak up his nape, wondering why Jonghyun deemed it necessary to pick at him for something he had already apologized for. “I already told you I’m sorry.”

“I deleted it.”

Something inside of Taemin cracked and he looked straight ahead, trying to put on a brave face, not letting it show that this simple sentence hurt him deeply. But what had he expected from Jonghyun? That he kept the photo to jerk off to it?

“Good. Me too,” he lied and kept walking, the roof of his parents’ house appearing in the distance. 

“It’s pretty here. Quite rural.” Jonghyun seemed to be wanting to do small-talk, picking up his pace until he was right next to Taemin again, who didn’t want to look at him; he wanted to crawl into a corner and hide instead. 

“The reason why I wanted to study in Seoul was because it’s so rural here, but after coming back, I realized that I missed it,” Taemin said in a small voice and walked over a crosswalk without looking left nor right. There was no one around anyway. “People are kinder in the countryside.” 

He had often wished for Jonghyun to visit him in his hometown, so they could stroll around and Taemin could show him all the places he cherished and had loved as a child, but this here wasn’t how he had imagined it to be. Instead of being happy and excited about the other’s visit, he felt anguished, fearing that one wrong word could cause them to fight again and say things to each other that they couldn’t take back anymore. The tension was high and Taemin wondered if Jonghyun could feel it too, the awkwardness weighing between them, pulling at his shoulders.

“We’re here,” Taemin announced when they arrived at his parents’ house at the end of the street: a two-storied, modern brick house with a small garden in the back, its architecture not something one often got to see around the older part of the little town. 

“You’ve never told me your family is rich,” Jonghyun commented on the façade, following Taemin to the door.

“We’re not. It’s school property. We moved into this house when my dad took the job as a director. It’s not ours.”

“Still. I grew up in a shoebox compared to this.”

“But that’s Seoul. Things are different in the countryside. Living space is more affordable because no one wants to be here,” Taemin explained pragmatically and unlocked the door. He slipped out of his shoes and jacket in the hallway and made some room for Jonghyun to do the same. Taemin still had a hard time grasping the concept of having Jonghyun here, seeing him with his own eyes and listening to him speak. He appeared like a Fata Morgana, Taemin beginning to wonder if he was hallucinating. 

“Your family seems to be very Catholic?” Jonghyun looked at a little house shrine Taemin’s mother had prepared right next to the entrance, a framed depiction of Jesus being enthroned on top of a brown credence table, a lit candle standing on one side and a vase with fresh flowers on the other. Taemin never paid active attention to the little shrine, its presence as normal for him as the coat hangers on the other side, but for someone who wasn’t religious, it might be an odd sight to witness.

Taemin shrugged. “Depends on what you consider _very_ Catholic, I guess.” He kneeled to unfasten the dogs from their leash, Eve immediately swarming into the living room to lie down on the couch while Adam padded over to the kitchen, most likely making a trip to the water bowl. 

“Did you eat breakfast?” 

It’s not what Taemin wanted to ask, but it’s what left his mouth. 

_Why are you here?_

_I mean why are you really here?_

_Does this mean something?_

_Do I mean something to you after all?_

_Why now?_

_Why did we have to fight?_

_Why did I have to leave?_

_Why did you let me leave?_

_Why did you let me sleep with other people?_

_Why didn’t you care before?_

_Why do you care now?_

Dozens of questions and yet the most mundane one had won. Maybe Taemin wasn’t ready to hear the answers to the questions he wanted to ask out loud; maybe it was good for them to pretend as if everything was alright, as if Jonghyun simply happened to stop by in Taemin’s hometown on a trip. A normal visit – without any ulterior motives.

“I had some Kimbap on the go and I still have –” Jonghyun looked down at his jacket and pulled a small tangerine from his pocket. “This here.” 

_Cute_ , was all Taemin could think as he nodded slowly and headed for the kitchen. “I still need to eat something. You can sit down in the living room if you want to,” he called over and took a deep breath as soon as he disappeared into the kitchen, where Adam noisily lapped water from the little bowl standing in a corner.

Jonghyun was here: physically present, not a hologram, not pixels on a phone screen; a human being made out of flesh and blood. Taemin opened the kitchen cupboard in search of some cereal, trying to figure out what Jonghyun’s presence in his parents’ living room was supposed to mean as he poured chocolate flakes and milk into a ceramic bowl. What was so important for Jonghyun to discuss that it couldn’t wait until Taemin had come back to Seoul? 

When Taemin came back to the living room, his heart melted as he discovered Jonghyun with Eve in his lap, the toy poodle having put his paws up into the air, tongue lolling as Jonghyun gave him belly rubs while talking cutely to him. ‘ _Soft boys make you fall in love with them without even trying to.’_ Soft boys with asshole energy seemed to do the same. Taemin had been so incredibly angry with Jonghyun, irritated and upset, but all of that seemed to have evaporated with the other’s arrival, as if Taemin’s body had craved his presence, had thrown all reason overboard, needed him to be close to breathe. 

Jonghyun looked up when Taemin sat down in the brown armchair next to the couch, Taemin not knowing what to say in a room filled with little trinkets, a small lace doily lying on top of the dark wooden couch table separating them, with two incredibly kitschy porcelain dogs reigning in the middle. Taemin’s father hated them, but his mother adored the little figurines.

The other had come here to talk, and yet he had done very little talking so far. Taemin stared down at the ceramic bowl in his hand.

“Your parents aren’t home?”

Taemin shook his head. “No.” That’s all he said. Jonghyun probably didn’t care to listen to a more detailed answer anyway. 

“Then we should put these into some water.” Jonghyun leaned over to his backpack, unzipped it, and carefully pulled out a small bouquet of yellow and pink flowers, the plastic foil they were wrapped in slightly crinkled from their journey in his bag.

“You bought my mother flowers?” Taemin’s eyebrows rose, which led to Jonghyun shrugging nonchalantly, fingers trying to puff out the plastic foil a little, Eve curiously sniffing the bouquet. 

“I saw them at the market and knew that my mom would like them, so I thought yours might like them as well. I didn’t want to show up at your house empty-handed.”

Why was Jonghyun acting like a soon-to-be spouse, ready to meet the parents of his future wife for the first time, wanting to make sure that they liked him and wouldn’t oppose the marriage? Taemin would never think to buy flowers for someone. 

“I’ll – _um_ – try to find something. She will like them for sure,” Taemin stuttered and got up to take the flowers, trying to suppress the warmth wanting to spread to his cheeks. It wasn’t him that Jonghyun had bought the flowers for, after all. Nothing of what Jonghyun said, nothing of what he _did_ made any sense to Taemin. The last time they had seen each other, they had yelled profanities in each other’s faces, and now the other was sitting on the couch in Taemin’s parents’ living room, petting one of the family dogs and bringing Taemin’s mother flowers. Jonghyun was a book of seven seals; he always had been, and Taemin feared he hadn’t opened a single lock yet to take even a peek at the first chapter. 

He found an empty vase after looking around in the small storage room next to the kitchen. Quickly filling it with water and putting the flowers inside, he came back and placed the flowers on the coffee table, receiving a ‘Thank you’ from the other, who was still giving Eve belly rubs, a cute smile plastered on his face. It was hard to hate Jonghyun when the soft boy energy radiated so strongly from him, reminding Taemin of all the reasons why he had fallen for the other in the first place. Why did it have to be Jonghyun, of all the people in the world, that he had to fall in love with? 

Taemin’s cereal was soggy by the time he took the first spoonful and he scowled at it, forcing the mushy chocolate flakes down his throat. He waited, and waited, _and waited_ for Jonghyun to say something, _anything_ , but the other remained silent, too busy giving Eve the time of his life, Taemin catching himself thinking what it would be like if Jonghyun rubbed _his_ belly. It was nonsense and he shook his head when a familiar tingling surged in his stomach. He was getting impatient; he wanted to talk, the silence only making the ringing in his ears louder and the aching in his chest stronger. 

“So –” he said ultimately and slurped some milk. “You are here…” he continued cautiously. “Say something.”

Jonghyun looked up at him then and Taemin’s insides burned, fingers tightening their grip around the spoon. There was still something about Jonghyun’s eyes that made him feel weak in the knees, despite a major part of him wanting to hit the other for being such a jerk and playing around with his heart. 

“I want to apologize,” Jonghyun’s voice was soft as he cradled Eve’s head in his hand. “The things I said to you that night. It wasn’t fair of me to say them. I didn’t even mean them. I was just so angry at you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I don’t think you are selfish, and I don’t think you’re acting like a child.”

Jonghyun took a deep breath while Taemin nervously scratched the skin on his thumb, not knowing if he should say something in return, if he should apologize as well, or if he should even accept the apology. Apologies were something Jonghyun had a lot of practice at because he had to make them up all the time. 

“Look, I tried to figure out where things went wrong and I still have no concrete answer, but what I _do_ know is that we shouldn’t have started sleeping with each other again after you told me that you had feelings for me. Everything after that only made things worse.”

Taemin nervously nibbled on his lip as he watched Jonghyun talk, his flat-mate gesturing around with one hand while the other continuously stroked Eve’s fur. His heart stung.

“So what you are saying is that it would have been better if I hadn’t told you how I felt about you?” 

Jonghyun shook his head. “No, I’m glad that you told me because confessing to someone isn’t easy; it takes a lot of courage. It’s – we should have stayed regular friends after that. Continuing what we did...” He paused to take a long breath. “It made things complicated.” 

_Complicated_. Taemin wasn’t sure if that wasn’t an understatement. Jonghyun leaned back, lifted his baseball cap to comb through his hair with his fingers, and placed it back on his head again right after. 

“You were right.” Jonghyun looked straight at Taemin, making something inside his body freeze. “That whole friends with benefits thing was stupid. It doesn’t work when feelings are involved.” Jonghyun licked his lips. “It only works when the people involved are only there for the fucking, but when you catch feelings, it doesn’t end well.” 

Taemin sat there in silence, listened, didn’t want to interrupt Jonghyun. It was the first time Jonghyun had admitted that Taemin was right – _had been right all along_. But when the other didn’t continue to speak, Taemin straightened up, making himself appear taller than he was. 

“When both catch feelings it usually ends well,” he said, directing the words to the flowers on the table, and saw Jonghyun nod from the side. 

“I’m scared, you know.” Jonghyun’s voice was so quiet now that Taemin almost couldn’t hear him.

“Scared of what?” 

“Of the mutually catching feelings part.” The expression on his face appeared concerned. 

“Why’s that?” Taemin asked, not understanding why someone could be scared of something good. Wasn’t that what everyone dreamed of and wished for? Their feelings for someone being reciprocated? Wasn’t that what love was all about? Finding someone to like you as much as you like them?

There was a soft laugh. “ _Taemin-ah_.” Jonghyun addressed him softly and looked at him with his head tilted. “Remember when I told you that being with me would only make you unhappy?”

Taemin nodded hesitantly. 

“Look what spending so much time with me has turned you into. Suddenly picking up smoking and drinking? Having sex with random people? Spontaneously getting tattoos? Having arguments with me on an open street? Your ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude?” Jonghyun listed, Taemin getting smaller and smaller in his seat. Except for the part where Jonghyun accused him of sleeping around with random people, the rest had been true. He wasn’t the same guy he had been when he had left home to study in Seoul, and maybe – partially – it had been Jonghyun’s influence as well. But he had never seen it as something bad or negative, more as a part of growing up. He wanted to experiment around and see what the world had in store for him. Wasn’t that what youth was all about? Wasn’t that what Minho had told him after moving in? That university was all about experimenting around and trying everything at least once?

“What do you think would happen if we were in a relationship and things turned sour? Would that make you get more tattoos, do cocaine, and attend gang bang parties?” 

Blinking, Taemin didn’t know what to respond, the conclusion Jonghyun had drawn so far off from anything he had imagined for his future life. 

“What?” he stammered, the creases on his forehead deepening. “What kind of movie script is _that_?” he asked and continued before Jonghyun had time to answer, “I don’t understand why you always have to see everything so negatively.”

A little sigh. “Taemin, that’s who I am.”

“No, you aren’t,” Taemin disagreed and rubbed his face, distressed, Jonghyun the one with a frown now. “It’s just who you believe yourself to be. I just don’t know why. Coping mechanism? Self-protection?” 

“ _Taemin-ah_.” 

Jonghyun sounded exhausted, helpless even. Taemin leaned back to pull his phone out of his pocket and looked for the photo which showed them cooking together. 

“Look!” he said, pointing at his phone, and held it towards the other. “That could have been us – it could be – _even now_.” Taemin’s voice got quieter at the end when Jonghyun took his phone to look at the photo for a while. He wanted to protest when Jonghyun’s thumb began to scroll through the folder, his ears heating up, knowing all too well what photos and videos the folder contained. 

“You still have them all. I thought you might have deleted them,” Jonghyun said thoughtfully, his thumb hovering over a photo, not swiping past it right away, but taking a closer look at it before handing the phone back. It was a photo Jonghyun had taken of them cuddling in Taemin’s bed, Taemin whispering naughty things into his ear with a wide grin to distract Jonghyun from taking the photo, Jonghyun dodging away from him while laughing. The photo had caught the moment perfectly, though it was a little blurry. Jonghyun had tried to delete it right after taking it because he thought he looked stupid, but Taemin had stolen his phone before he could and had sent it to his own phone to save it from disappearing into no-man’s-land. 

“Do you want me to?” Taemin feared that the other might say yes and was relieved when Jonghyun shook his head, his heart flipping in his chest. Their conversation had stalled, no one saying anything, both of them dwelling on thoughts neither of them wanted to share. 

“You know, I was okay when we didn’t talk in the dorm,” Jonghyun began after a while, letting Eve get up from his lap when the small dog got bored of hanging out on his legs. “Because you were still there. Just a room away.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Things were fine as long as I could see you occasionally in the kitchen or the bathroom, but when you were suddenly gone –” Jonghyun took a deep breath and folded his hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so worried about someone – _anyone_ – in my entire life. I was so insanely scared that something might have happened to you and the last things we said to each other were insults. It drove me nuts that you didn’t text me back and didn’t show up in the dorm anymore. You were just _gone_.” Jonghyun opened his hands, showed his palms as if to demonstrate the emptiness he had experienced. 

Taemin swallowed and curled his toes in his socks. “I didn’t think you would care if I left,” he responded in a feeble voice. His pulse was drumming so hard against his neck, he was sure that it must be visible from outside, his hands clammy as he rubbed them against his jeans, needing to touch something, needing to soothe himself. 

Another sigh. “Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun repeated as he had done so often. “I _do_ care about you – a lot – too much, maybe. What makes you think I don’t?”

The question lingered in the room, floating around Taemin’s head as he tried to comprehend its meaning. 

“You –” he began, only to be interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, Eve immediately jumping down from the couch and hurrying up to welcome Taemin’s mom back home, followed by Adam, who came running through the hallways at lightning speed.

“Yes, _yes_ – you sweet babies – I brought you some nice chicken. _Mmhh_ – just for my sweet honey buns,” Taemin’s mom sweet-talked the dogs, the situation so absurd and the shift in the atmosphere so obvious that Taemin couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands, chuckling lowly. His mother couldn’t have chosen a worse time to come back, interrupting a conversation that might finally shed light on the complicated relationship Taemin had with Jonghyun. He had gotten a glimpse behind the curtain, but before the show had started it had been pulled close again, shutting Taemin out.

His mother didn’t notice them at first and walked past the living room on her way to the kitchen to put the groceries down, so Taemin got up and followed her, startling her when he suddenly popped up behind her at the kitchen counter.

“Ah, Taeminnie!” she recoiled and held her chest, looking stunned. “Stop frightening your poor mother like that.” 

“Mom, we have a guest,” he said without beating around the bush, his mother cocking her head in surprise. It must have been something unusual for her to hear because the only person Taemin ever brought home was Jongin, who she treated more like a son than a guest. 

“A guest?”

“Yeah, one of my flat-mates from Seoul has come to visit.”

“One of your flat-mates? From Seoul? Is it the handsome one?” she wanted to know right away, fixing her brown-dyed, shoulder-length hair and making her way over to the living room without giving Taemin time to explain any further.

“No, it’s not.” Taemin followed her hurriedly, Jonghyun standing up as soon as she entered, his hands flying up to take off his baseball cap. 

Taemin had shown his mother a picture of his flat-mates after moving into the dormitory, since she had been worried about who these people were that he lived with. After bugging him for almost three weeks like only a mother could, Taemin had given in to her wishes and had asked his flat-mates to pose for a group photo after all of them had gathered in the kitchen. They had all put on a perfect smile after Taemin told them that the picture was for his mother, Minho slinging his arm around Kibum’s shoulder, who held a spatula in his hand as Taemin had interrupted him cooking dinner, while Jinki, wearing only boxer shorts and a crumpled white t-shirt, had hidden partially behind Jonghyun, who stood in the front like a choir boy, his hands folded in front of his crotch. Back then, times had been easier, Taemin still trying to understand the dynamic in their unit without being involved in the chaos himself. 

His mom had never quite learned his flat-mates’ names, each of them having been given a nickname by her according to the photo and the things Taemin had told her about them instead. She was referring to Minho as ‘the handsome one,’ whom _‘I would have dated if I were twenty years_ _younger,’_ to quote her, the thought making Taemin shiver. His mom was very pretty, youthful, and cheeky, and Taemin was convinced that Minho wouldn’t turn her down if she came on to him even now. 

“Ah, it’s the poet.” She clapped her hands together and smiled at Jonghyun, who bowed politely at a perfect 45-degree angle. “It was – _Jongwoo_?

“It’s Jonghyun. Kim Jonghyun,” he introduced himself sheepishly. “I’m sorry to intrude and come here without announcing myself beforehand.” He bowed again, smiling shyly, a blush on his cheeks, an expression Taemin had never seen on Jonghyun’s face before – and Taemin dared to say that he had seen a lot of expressions on the other’s face in the past few months. 

“Even his voice is as melodic as a poet’s,” she exclaimed, which turned Jonghyun’s face even redder as he bowed again, thanking her. The sight was so foreign that Taemin had a hard time seeing the guy who loved sucking and riding cock in that flushed face with that small, flustered smile. 

“Mom, he brought you flowers,” Taemin chipped in to make the situation less awkward, his mother immediately looking down at the bouquet standing on the coffee table, a surprised sound falling from her lips.

“Ah, really? For me?” she asked, her face lighting up. “Look how pretty they are. Pink is my favorite color. Thank you so much, Jonghyun,” she said and picked up the vase to take a proper look, acting as if Jonghyun had bought her expensive jewelry. Maybe Taemin should buy her flowers as well sometimes; she seemed to appreciate them. Maybe in the end not only his dogs would switch sides but his mother as well. 

“Taemin mentions you often. Thank you for taking such good care of my son. I know how immature he can be at times.” She placed the vase back onto the table and patted Taemin’s arm. He was mortified by the remark, knowing that hearing his mom say something like that didn’t help his cause of coming off as mature and fully grown-up.

“Maybe we should go to my room now?” Taemin wanted to flee the situation before his mother could start telling humiliating stories about his childhood, and he looked over at Jonghyun, who stood next to the couch, a little misplaced, hands folded in front of him with his baseball cap crumpled between them. 

“Of course, _of course_ – go off and play a little. I will be storing the groceries,” his mother agreed, talking to them as if Taemin was a kid in elementary school who was about to go to the playground with a friend from school. His mother had never truly accepted that Taemin had grown up at some point, still treating him like a child. He usually didn’t mind much, because he liked to be pampered, but being treated like a five-year-old in front of Jonghyun was something else entirely. 

“Would you like something to drink, dear?” She looked at Jonghyun, who declined respectfully, picked up his backpack from the couch, and apologized to her once again for intruding as he passed her on his way to follow Taemin up the stairs. 

Taemin was anxious as he pushed open the door to his room, fidgeting around as he stepped inside, having no idea where to sit and what to do, not sure if they could continue their conversation where they had left off. 

“Wow – you’ve got a lot of manga,” was the first thing Jonghyun said after closing the door behind himself, shutting out the world around them. He turned to his left and looked at three white bookshelves, each of them filled from top to bottom with manga, with small action figurines standing as a decoration on some of the shelves. 

“A lot of them are quite old. I just couldn’t bear to give them away.” Taemin pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, feet nervously rubbing against the soft fabric of the blue carpet lying under his feet. He was alone with Jonghyun now, even the dogs having stayed with his mother, no longer there to fulfill their buffer duties. There was only God by his side and Taemin wasn’t sure that he hadn’t been completely forsaken by him already. 

“I have that one as well, stored in some box at home.” Jonghyun pointed at a model of the character Roronoa Zoro, the swordsman from the manga series _One Piece_ sitting on a barrel with crossed legs, wielding a katana around. 

“I used to collect them but sold most of my collection before I started university. I thought some money savings might come in handier than figurines.”

“A nerd through and through, _huh_?” Jonghyun sent him a small smile, the first one that day, the intensity making his knees wobble and his heart pump faster. He had missed seeing it so much. 

“Are you still surprised about that?” Taemin tried to act casual and went over to his bed to sit down, his fingers clinging to the edge of the mattress and his eyes not leaving Jonghyun for a second. They were alone in his room, a room _with a bed_ , and the last thing Taemin should be thinking about was how good the other would look in it naked. He shook his head, tried to think straight and stay reasonable. _Jonghyun was still an asshole_ , he told himself over and over again. One that looked way too good in ripped skinny jeans, but an asshole nonetheless.

“No, not really.”

Jonghyun looked around for a bit, padding through Taemin’s room. He touched the back of his desk chair, but instead of pulling it out and sitting down, he settled on the carpet and crossed his legs. 

“There’s a chair.” Taemin raised his eyebrows, Jonghyun only hiking up his shoulders in response.

“Yeah, I know.” 

It was weird sitting on the bed while Jonghyun was on the floor, Taemin having to look down at him. He tugged at the sheets as he gazed at the frayed part of Jonghyun’s jeans that left the other’s knobby knees exposed, fine dark hair peeking out of them. 

“So –” Taemin exhaled and brought his thumb to his mouth, nibbling on the skin, not knowing where to start and feeling like Jonghyun wasn’t much help, although _he_ should be the one doing the talking and not Taemin. Taemin had done all the talking for months; he was tired, exhausted, only wanted to listen now, wanted answers – honest ones, no dodging, no anything. 

“So.”

Jonghyun wasn’t cooperative at all. 

“What did you mean earlier – with –” Taemin gestured around helplessly. “Caring about me – _too much – care too much_.” His heart drummed loudly in his ears as his words came out in a stutter.

“ _Mean_? It means that I care too much about you.” Jonghyun pulled his legs up to his body and hugged them while he looked over at Taemin, who was having a hard time understanding the words that left Jonghyun’s mouth. The language wasn’t the problem – it was the sentiment behind them. 

“I don’t understand.” Taemin pulled a face, the information he received not matching any he had collected so far. He felt like a computer program looking for a specific code that wasn’t there. 

“ _Taemin-ah_ ,” Jonghyun heaved out a sigh. “I’m not good at this.”

“With what, exactly?” he probed, wondering if he was the only one in the room, not getting what they were even talking about anymore. _Jonghyun wasn’t good at what? Caring about people?_

“Do you know why I dealt with Kibum rejecting me all the time for so long, despite it hurting so much when he slept with other people?”

There was a low pinch in Taemin’s chest and he shook his head, not knowing where the other was going with his story. He hadn’t heard Jonghyun talk about Kibum for so long, and it had been nice knowing that the other appeared to finally be able to close the door on Kibum, not letting him in any longer. Taemin wished he could close the door on Jonghyun as well, not letting him in anymore, but Jonghyun’s foot was parked in the doorframe, making it impossible for Taemin to shut him out.

“Because I liked the feeling of one-sided love. It was nice because it was harmless. I could daydream of us being together without us being together, you know?” Jonghyun tried to explain, but Taemin didn’t understand anything. Why would anyone want to fantasize about someone, like a teenager crushing on a celebrity? “I couldn’t hurt him while doing that, and he couldn’t hurt me either. As long as he was single that worked just fine, but when he started dating people the bubble kind of burst. I just – I didn’t have the strength to get out of there until – until _you_ –” He paused and stared at the carpet, looking vulnerable in his oversized sweater, fingers playing with the long sleeves. Taemin wanted to interject; he had questions, so many of them that burned on his tongue, but he didn’t want to interrupt Jonghyun, waiting for him to speak his mind openly.

“You know – the thought of an actual relationship scares the shit out of me. Making myself so vulnerable in front of someone, giving my heart to them. Before something can develop with a person, I already go through all the possible scenarios where things could go wrong. I scare myself so much with these things that I don’t think I can have a healthy relationship with someone without pushing them away, because I get scared of hurting them or them hurting me.”

Jonghyun looked fatigued from talking and trying to put his feelings into words, the struggle visible on his features as he looked up. Taemin would have liked to help him but he didn’t know how, still not quite understanding what Jonghyun was trying to say. 

“I’ve never met someone as persistent as you when it came to wanting to be with me. I was flattered at first and didn’t think much of it, you know. I didn’t think your infatuation would last longer than a couple of weeks at max. I thought you might just be swimming on a high because I was the first guy you had sex with and hormones had made you believe that this was reason enough to fancy me. I thought that stopping having sex with each other would help you to clear your head, but I underestimated your stubbornness, didn’t I?”

A small smile tugged at Jonghyun’s lips, but then his expression turned more serious again.

“We started this all wrong to make it work, Taemin-ah.” 

There it was again – his name, but instead of despising its tone, he embraced it now, held it close to his chest, and wanted to listen to it again. He had missed hearing it so much from Jonghyun. 

“What do you mean?” Taemin asked and leaned forward. “How can you start something like that wrong?”

“We skipped this whole dating stage. Aren’t people supposed to date for a while before they decide to have sex? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”

Taemin scoffed. “I wasn’t aware that you were the conservative type.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, choosing his words carefully, too afraid that a single sentence could guide them in the wrong direction. “There are a million relationships that started with people who dated for months before they decided that they wanted to be together and it didn’t work out for them in the end. So it might as well be possible for people who just happened to have fucked for months before getting serious to make things work perfectly.”

Both fell silent again, neither Taemin saying anything else nor Jonghyun commenting on what the other had said. Taemin’s mother was vacuum-cleaning the house downstairs, the dull roaring sound standing out in the otherwise quiet room. 

“How do you want to make things work when you go out of your way to fuck someone else as soon as things aren’t going well?” 

The question had more depth to it than it might have seemed at first glance, because it showed that Jonghyun had been bothered by Taemin sleeping with people other than him. So maybe, just _maybe_ , he had been jealous after all. That revelation stirred something inside of Taemin.

“You want to tell me that you haven’t fucked anyone ever since we stopped sleeping with each other?” 

Considering that Taemin had last seen him with another guy at a club, this was hard to believe. All those likes on Instagram, the photo with _@seoulcityboy_ – why would Jonghyun have met up with him, if not for sex? 

“No, I haven’t,” Jonghyun said straightaway, his expression indifferent. 

Taemin frowned, not believing a single word Jonghyun said. “But you wanted to suck that old dude’s dick when I found you in that club.” He gestured around, trying to compose himself as that irritating itching in his fingertips returned. They had talked so calmly to each other thus far; he didn’t want to make it worse again by not being able to control his frustration. 

“I wasn’t able to,” Jonghyun said and lowered his gaze. “I mean, yes, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t try. I met up with some guys, made out with some, yes, but I always pulled back when it was about to go further than kissing because I couldn’t –” Jonghyun ran his fingers through his hair, still flattened from the baseball cap he had probably worn ever since he got on a bus in Seoul. 

“So now you are turning me into the bad guy here because I slept with someone, even though we have never been in any way exclusive, because that was something _you_ didn’t want?” Taemin was about to lose it, feeling a vein pop up in his neck. 

“No – _no_. I just thought, if you can so easily turn off your feelings for someone to fuck other people, what would happen if we were in a relationship and, I don’t know – I say something that upsets you? I just can’t shake the feeling that you would go to the next best person, fuck them, and then send me another photo to try and make me jealous or something,” Jonghyun rambled what Taemin considered total garbage. He couldn’t be serious. 

“So it’s still about that photo? I already apologized for it. It was stupid; I know. I don’t know what I was thinking when I sent it.” Taemin wanted to smoke so badly, his feet bobbing up and down on the floor, fingers nervously pulling at a seam on his jeans. This was going all wrong. 

“And that’s the thing,” Jonghyun gestured around, voice way calmer compared to Taemin’s. “You are doing things you don’t think about twice way too often. Like fucking your _other flat-mate_.” The last bit came out as a hiss and Taemin rolled his eyes, not believing that Jonghyun was still keeping on about Minho.

“It was a one-time thing,” he repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. 

“But it was with Minho – of all the people you could have had sex with, you chose Choi _fucking_ Minho.” Jonghyun got up and passed through the room until he stopped in front of the window and looked outside, crossing his arms. 

“Why does it matter who it was?” Taemin asked. “Besides, you were the one who always wanted me to hook up with him, so I don’t know what your problem is.” He felt his temples throb, not knowing how they had ended up here once again. They were just walking in circles and not getting anywhere. 

“That was stupid of me, I admit that. I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it did.” Jonghyun leaned his arm against the window frame, still not looking at Taemin. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“Maybe you should be the one thinking twice before saying things,” Taemin murmured, feeling a headache rise in his temples. “Instead of making dumb suggestions.”

“I’m sorry, really. If I could, I would take it back –”

“Then what?” 

Jonghyun turned around to face him. “I would tell you that I _do_ mind if you sleep with him.”

Taemin blinked, furrowing his brows, heart tumbling through his chest as if he was running a marathon. 

“Why?” he tried to ask a little calmer and stared at his feet, not wanting his mom to hear any of their conversation. He wanted Jonghyun to say it out loud, craved to hear those words that he had longed for so long.

“Taemin-ah,” the other’s voice sounded husky. “Because I like you.” 

_I like you._

_I like you._

_I like you._

_I like you._

Stunned, Taemin lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he tried to find the lie in Jonghyun’s face. But there was none.

“ _Like_ as in a friend, or…?” Taemin paused, feeling his fingers shake as his heart was about to give out, overworked and weary, his guts twisting in a dozen knots. 

“ _No_.” Jonghyun was talking to the window now. “ _Like_ as in – I don’t want to see you being with a person that isn’t me – because that _fucking_ hurts.”

At a loss for words, Taemin sat there, blinked repeatedly, and questioned everything that had ever happened between them, from their first kiss to them falling asleep in each other’s arms for the first time to their fight in public. Jonghyun had always been so indifferent.

“But – _but you_ ,” he stammered, struggling to find words to form a plausible sentence. “But you never wanted to be in a relationship with me.” 

Jonghyun turned around to walk over to the desk and leaned against it, fingers holding onto the desktop, only the fingertips peeking out from the long sleeves of his black sweater. 

“I just told you why. Relationships scare me. Ever since I started to realize that I have feelings for you – I constantly think that a relationship between us could never work. I’ll be leaving university in a few months, and you are going to continue studying and meeting new people who are probably far more entertaining than I am. I will be working and you will be going off to the military in a year or so, where you’ll be confronted by horny dudes who all have those naked ladies hanging around in their lockers and their bunk beds and who’ll probably make you realize that you prefer to be with someone who has boobs after all. I don’t think I would take it well if you just showed up one day and told me that you’d had a girlfriend on the side all along because I couldn’t give you what you needed. Because I wasn’t good enough for you.” 

Dumbfounded, Taemin looked at Jonghyun, not believing that the other had made up scenarios so far into the future while he hadn’t even decided what courses to take in summer. He knew that those made-up situations were nonsense because he would never do such a thing, but it seemed that those ideas were so deeply ingrained in the other’s head that it would be hard to convince him of the contrary. The confession overwhelmed him, and he couldn’t even dwell in the moment of learning about Jonghyun’s feelings as there were too many complications, too much other information prattling down on him that made it impossible for him to be happy. 

“You believe I would do something like that?” 

Hurt overshadowed the fluttering in his chest as he tried to figure out what he had done that would make Jonghyun think of him capable of such behavior.

“I don’t know.” Jonghyun reached up to run a hand over his face. “You’re young.”

“Can you for _once_ please stop doing that? Just once.” Taemin couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice. “What difference does it make? You act like you are my senior by thirty years. We’re both university students, for God’s sake.” 

Jonghyun stared down at the floor as he took a deep breath. “How do you imagine a relationship to go, then? After I graduate, I mean. What if I become like Donghoon? Career first, everything else second?” 

“You wouldn’t,” Taemin insisted but then turned quieter. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t care. I’m already used to being your second choice anyway.”

Saying it out loud was painful.

“ _Taemin-ah_.” Tiny, weak, and broken.

“What would I need to do to make you realize that I would never do any of the things you said?” he asked cautiously and looked at Jonghyun, who pressed his palm against his forehead, frowning with closed eyes.

“The thing is,” he said. “I don’t think there is anything that _can_ be done about it. I don’t believe that I can be in a relationship without sabotaging it. I’m not worthy of being loved and maybe I just don’t _deserve_ to be in a healthy relationship.” 

Jonghyun looked fragile as he rested against the desk. Taemin wanted to get up and hug him close, but didn’t dare to. 

“This might sound lame,” Taemin fiddled with a loose thread on his long-sleeve, “but everyone deserves to be loved, Jonghyun.” There was no chance of knowing if anything he said could make any difference in how the other perceived things, in how he saw himself, but Taemin wanted to at least give it a try.

The sound of the vacuum cleaner broke off and what he heard instead made his heart throb. There was soft sniffling coming from Jonghyun’s direction, and when Taemin looked over at the other, he saw him pat his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Are you crying?” It was a dumb question, considering that Taemin could see the wetness on the other’s cheek.

“Maybe.” 

“ _Jonghyun_ ,” Taemin whispered, exasperated, and was reminded of all the times he had heard the other crying in his room late at night. All the times he had just wanted to hold him close and tell him that he would be there for him no matter what, that it was okay for him to let it all out, that he didn’t need to put on a brave face in front of him.

How quickly things could change. In one second Taemin had been the one crying in the middle of a street and now Jonghyun was the one with small tears running down his cheeks. There was still anger burning inside of Taemin, but it was slowly extinguished by the look on the other’s face. 

“I’m sorry, Taemin-ah. I suck. I know that.” Jonghyun leaned his head back and pressed his lips together as he continued to pat his eyes with the sleeve, Taemin’s heart breaking as the other stood at the desk, looking so damaged, like a vase with too many fine tears covering its surface, a gust of wind able to crack it completely.

With a heavy heart, he finally got up and went over to Jonghyun, running his thumb over the other’s surprised face before taking him into his arms and holding him, blood pounding in his ears. They hadn’t been this close in weeks, and Taemin’s heart caved in when Jonghyun’s arms slung around him and pulled him against his chest, his eyes falling shut as he listened to Jonghyun silently sob against his shoulder. Why did this chest still feel like home to him? Warm and strong and yet so soft and comforting.

“It’s okay.” Taemin stroked his back and let him cry into his shirt, the other’s fingertips digging into his sides. 

“I hate myself so much sometimes.”

“ _I don’t_ ,” Taemin whispered into Jonghyun’s hair, smelling the shampoo he always used at the dorm.

The hold around him tightened, and Taemin felt pleasant warmth run through his stomach as they hugged, enjoying the intimacy, trying to relearn how Jonghyun felt against him. The other seemed tiny in his arms now, small and delicate, unlike his usual self which oozed confidence. He remembered the only other time Jonghyun had let himself seem this vulnerable in front of him, and how Taemin had tried to cheer him up by talking about ridiculous things like the latest hentai he had watched. It had been inappropriate back then but Jonghyun had let it pass. However, Taemin didn’t want to risk upsetting the other by saying something stupid now and therefore remained silent, rocking Jonghyun a little while patting his hair. He hadn’t imagined a face-to-face conversation with Jonghyun would end up like this. In his worst nightmares, it had always been him who had cried in the end. It was a role reversal, Taemin suddenly feeling like the older between the two of them as he comforted Jonghyun.

Standing in the middle of his childhood bedroom with Jonghyun in his arms was cathartic, as if they had broken through a wall together. They hadn’t resolved anything, and Taemin had no idea what their embrace even meant, if it meant anything at all – if Jonghyun was at least willing to try and give Taemin a chance – but for the first time in weeks, they hadn’t yelled at each other, and to Taemin that was progress. He had so many questions, but it felt like the wrong time to ask any of them. For the moment, being in the same room with Jonghyun in his arms was enough, holding him, smelling him, everything his body and mind had yearned for so dearly, everything Taemin had tried to deny himself.

He inclined his head when the sobbing subsided to look at Jonghyun’s face, his pretty eyes red and a little swollen, still glistening with tears. Taemin put on a little pout when he wiped some of them away, heart skipping a beat when the other watched him. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Jonghyun spoke with a croaky tone. When Taemin stepped back with a reassuring smile, Jonghyun appeared like he didn’t want to let go, hands lingering on his skin and lifelessly falling to the sides when Taemin broke away.

“I’ll get us something to drink, okay?” he asked and went over to the door when Jonghyun nodded softly.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Jonghyun’s voice was still no louder than a murmur.

“Of course. It’s the room opposite of mine,” he explained and Jonghyun followed him outside, vanishing inside the bathroom while Taemin walked downstairs in search of drinks and a clear mind. He hadn’t even had time to comprehend what had happened in his room, what Jonghyun had told him, the confession that had been drowned out by Jonghyun’s arguments as to why a relationship between them couldn’t possibly work in the long run. It was insane, truly insane. 

Jonghyun liked him.

He had been jealous.

Jonghyun liked him more than a friend.

He had been jealous. 

Jonghyun didn’t want him to be with anyone else.

He had been jealous.

The tiniest of smiles edged at the corner of his lips as he headed for the kitchen. His mother was standing in front of the countertop preparing lunch when he entered to grab some soda he knew Jonghyun liked from the fridge. 

“Are you two having fun?” his mother asked with a smile on her face as she cut vegetables. 

“Yeah.” What else was he supposed to say? ‘ _Yeah, we hugged each other while he was crying_ ’ didn’t seem like a suitable answer. 

“It’s so nice of him to come all the way from Seoul. You should show him around. He sounds so sophisticated. I guess he grew up in Seoul? I’m sure he hasn't been to the countryside often. Those city kids never have,” Taemin’s mother considered, the knife slicing through the radish with ease.

“I’ll ask him,” Taemin said for his mother’s sake, not sure whether Jonghyun felt like going out at all. He had never appeared to be someone who enjoyed going outside much, preferring activities that didn’t require him to leave the house. 

“Will he stay for dinner? He can sleep in your father’s study if he wants to. He traveled for so long, it would be exhausting to go back and forth in one day. Please tell him he doesn’t need to be shy around the house; someone who takes care of our Taeminnie so well is always welcome.” She sent him a motherly smile, which Taemin tried to mimic. He wondered whether she would have the same kind words ready for Jonghyun if she knew what things the two of them had done together behind closed doors. 

“I’ll let him know.” 

When he got back to his room, Jonghyun was standing in front of the window to look outside, his head turning when Taemin closed the door behind himself. Jonghyun had washed his face, leaving some hair strands wet, the tears gone and his cheeks still a little flushed. He sent Taemin one of his small indicated smiles when the younger came up to him to hand him a peach soda.

“Are you feeling better?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jonghyun replied with a sigh. “I guess it’s good that I got it off my chest.”

Taemin was on the verge of replying that Jonghyun should have been honest with him, that he shouldn’t have acted like an ass about it, that he shouldn’t have let the situation escalate until Taemin had seen no alternative to running away, but he swallowed those accusations, sure that they were something the other was aware of.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked instead, noticing the subtle change in Jonghyun’s expression right away.

“ _Guess_.” Jonghyun opened the soda can with a fizz and took the first sip while Taemin opened the window and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his desk drawer, quickly lighting one up and sighing in relief after the first drag. Jonghyun probably hated to see him like that as much as his mother would.

“Do your parents know you’ve picked up smoking?” Jonghyun stepped away from the window when the cold wind blew in, Taemin shivering slightly as he leaned outside and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked at the rice fields outside, stretching along the horizon, the green stalks weighing in the wind. 

“Hell no,” he breathed out, smoke floating through the air. “My mom would kill me if she were to find out.” 

“I would too if I was your mother.”

Jonghyun had walked over to Taemin’s bookshelves and now crouched down to examine the contents of the lower shelves. Taemin watched him, the smoke filling his lungs making him feel a little more at ease, as if it helped him to think more clearly. 

“I don’t know what your plans were when you came here, but my mother wants to let you know that you are invited to stay in my dad’s study for the night if you want. We have a sofa bed in there for guests,” he elaborated, facing back outside when he breathed out the smoke to avoid the smell of cigarettes spreading into his room. 

“I didn’t plan that far ahead. I bought a bus ticket on a whim and my only goal was to get to your house and talk to you. I didn’t think about what to do after that,” Jonghyun admitted, holding a volume of _JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure_ in his hands. “If you don’t want me here then I’ll leave, otherwise I would like to accept your mother’s offer.”

“If I wanted you to leave I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Their eyes met briefly when Taemin looked back at him, every contact making him twitch on the inside. When Jonghyun broke eye contact to focus back on the manga and flip through a few pages, Taemin looked back outside and stared at the landscape in silence. 

“What are we going to do now?” he asked after finishing his cigarette, grinding it out on the outer part of the windowsill and flicking it outside with his thumb and pointer finger. The question was ambiguous; it could mean two things: what were they going to do right now in this very moment, and what were they going to do about them in general, them as people who had feelings for each other that neither of them seemed to handle well. 

“I don’t know.” Jonghyun shut the manga and placed it back onto the shelf to straighten up, Taemin bracing himself against the windowsill, feeling the cold air brush against his back.

“Would you like to go out for a walk or something? I can show you the park I used to hang out at,” Taemin suggested.

Jonghyun went along with the idea without objecting, the two of them soon putting their jackets and shoes back on to leave the house. They took the dogs with them, Jonghyun asking to hold their leash when they stepped outside and Taemin gladly handing it over, because that made it easier to push his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

Not talking about anything that mattered while strolling around, Taemin pointed out buildings and specific places that had special memories from his childhood attached to them, Jonghyun listening to him and asking him questions and commenting “ _Everything is so small_ ”, “ _There is so much green_ ”, and “ _It smells so different here_ ” throughout their little trip. Despite feeling like a tour guide, Taemin also got a sense of spiraling back in time, to when the two of them had sat at the kitchen table in their dorm, just studying together, Jonghyun inquiring about his life in the countryside and Taemin not yet entangled in feelings for his flat-mate that ran too deeply. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to just talk to Jonghyun freely, clowning around and acting like they’d been friends since kindergarten. It was a lovely feeling, but Taemin knew that it wouldn’t last – there were still too many unknown variables in the equation that needed to be solved.

The small park was deserted when they arrived, only wildlife demonstrating their presence by flying around, hopping, ribbiting, and quacking. The grass stood high, having not been mowed since autumn, and the first blossoms were peeking out of their buds, the signs of a nearing spring visible everywhere they looked. A pond in the middle of the park formed its center and a narrow wooden bridge led across it, fishes discernible underneath the clear water, parts of it covered by water lilies.

“You don’t find something like this in Seoul. It’s peaceful,” Jonghyun said as he picked up a stick and threw it for the dogs to fetch, both running after it eagerly, throwing themselves into the wet grass. 

“Yeah, it is,” Taemin agreed, smiling when Adam came back with the stick, his usually white, fluffy fur sticking wetly to his skin, his paws dirty and covered in mud. Eve trotted next to him, trying to steal the stick, the little toy poodle just as wet as his little adopted brother. 

“Do you ever think of moving back here after graduating?” Jonghyun wanted to know and fought with Adam over the stick, who didn’t want to let go at first and growled at him. Instead of being intimidated, this only made Jonghyun chuckle and he growled back, the little dog immediately letting go and looking at him in confusion, his head cocked to the side. Jonghyun threw the stick away again, the two dogs immediately disappearing in the tall grass, hopping through it like oversized bunnies. 

“No, not really – I can’t see myself growing old here,” Taemin said. “Coming back is nice, but I know that after a few weeks I will only get bored again. There is not much one can do. In Seoul, you can do anything 24h a day while here they roll up the sidewalks at 6 pm.” 

“Sounds like a lot less stress compared to living in the city.” 

“I guess,” Taemin shrugged, looking over at the small lake, where ducks cleaned their plumage and plunged into the water in search of food. The third time Jonghyun threw the stick, Taemin’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out to take a quick look.

 _‘I’ll come by after lunch so you can tell me all the juicy details_ 😛 _’_

Jongin. 

With a sigh, Taemin ran a hand through his hair. The night with Yoomi was the last thing on his mind right now. 

“Bad news?” 

Taemin shook his head and watched Eve coming back with the stick, dreading the moment when his mother would force him to wash the dogs. Eve hated water. 

“No, Jongin wanted to come over after lunch.” 

“I don’t mind, if that’s the reason why you’re sighing.”

The stick flew through the air again, Eve running right after it while Adam sat down in the grass and scratched his ear with his hinder paw. Although he was the younger of the two, Adam was a bit of a lazy bum, only interested in doing something for a few minutes before he got bored of it. 

“It’s not necessary. I’ve seen him every day since I came back.”

“He’s your best friend, isn’t he?” Jonghyun said and held onto the stick instead of throwing it again when Eve trotted back, the toy poodle breathing heavily. Neither of the dogs were sporting aces, as their usual walks consisted of following Taemin’s mother around. “I’d like to meet him.” 

Taemin frowned. “Why?” 

“To say thank you.”

Taemin must have looked just as confused as Adam had mere minutes ago, because Jonghyun chuckled again and continued walking, following the footpath around the park. 

“For what? You’ve never met him.” Taemin hurried to catch up, the two dogs following suit, padding along on their tiny paws. 

“He sent me a message.”

The confusion rattling at Taemin’s nerves grew as Jonghyun wiped his hands on his jeans and then pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocked it, and tapped the screen a few times before handing it to Taemin. 

“Here.” 

Why would Jongin send Jonghyun a message behind Taemin’s back? Jongin told him everything, even things he didn’t want to know. Taking the phone into his hand as if it was a bomb he had to defuse, Taemin looked at an opened Instagram chat, Jongin’s profile photo at the top and his username appearing next to it. There was a bulk of text, but Jonghyun hadn’t replied to it. According to the date, his friend had sent the message the night Jonghyun had bombarded Taemin’s Instagram profile with comments and likes, and Taemin’s cheeks heated up instantly. 

> _hey, u might remember me from that one video call months ago. i’m taemin’s friend jongin. i've been thinking back and forth about whether i should write u this message…but here i am. just wanted to pop by and tell u to get a hold of yourself. if u like him – just tell him, if u don’t ...then stay away. don’t send him all those mixed messages as if u’re the cast of some thriller and taemin has to solve a crime. he likes u, so stop being such an ass about it. he’s a bit of a doofus at times, but who isn’t? u seem like a decent guy, so please be decent towards him as well. u’ve started it after all, didn’t u?_ _if u don't like him - maybe stop pestering him with messages and stalking his insta, just saying. thanks and 'night_

The words kept floating through Taemin’s head, twirled around in a whirlpool, blurred as he stared at them for too long.

“Is that why you’re here?” 

He handed the phone back, which quickly disappeared into the back pocket of Jonghyun’s jeans again.

“I already told you why I came here,” Jonghyun said and brushed hair out of his face. The dark hairline had grown thicker, an indication that the other hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. “But I was impressed that he cares so much about you that he sent me a message in the middle of the night.”

“He’s never done that before, I swear,” Taemin muttered and stuffed his hands deeper into his jacket. 

“I guess that’s because you haven’t liked a coward before.”

Taemin didn’t know what to say to that and remained silent, following Eve and Adam on their journey through the high grass at the wayside with his eyes, every stone, every leaf, every little stick getting sniffed and analyzed by their snouts. 

“Why _did_ you comment on all of my posts?” he asked eventually.

“I thought it would make you talk to me, but you were too stubborn.”

“I wasn’t stubborn, I was hurt,” Taemin murmured with a lowered head and kicked a pebble with the tip of his shoe, making it fly over the soil. 

“Taemin-ah, I’m sorry. I really am.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t say that.”

Jonghyun halted in his steps. “So you don’t want me to apologize anymore?”

Taemin shook his head. “I don’t want you to do things anymore that require an apology.” 

He crouched down and called the dogs over, running his fingers through their muddy fur when they hurried over, Jonghyun wordlessly handing him the leash to fasten it back onto their collars. 

“That night – the first time we slept with each other – if Kibum hadn’t hooked up with that dude but with you instead, do you think you would have shown up in my room another night? Or was that a spur of the moment decision you made?” Taemin couldn’t help but wonder, his mind still harassing him with questions he needed answers to. 

“I’ll be honest with you,” Jonghyun said when Taemin stood back up. “I was surprised that you didn’t turn me away that night.”

“That wasn’t my question.” They began walking towards the exit, Taemin holding onto the leash, his mind wandering back to that fateful night. 

“I can’t remember much of it.”

Taemin snorted morosely. “But you _do_ remember that we had sex, right?” 

“Of course I do; that’s not what I meant,” Jonghyun backtracked and gestured around. “I mean, before I came to your room, I don’t remember much of that evening. But yes, I probably would have tried my luck another time.”

It should have been a comforting answer, but it didn’t feel like one to Taemin, who narrowed his eyes in thought as they left the park to follow the street back to his parents’ house.

“Why? Is that a thing you do with new guys who move into the dorm?”

Irritation flared up inside of him and he couldn’t tell where it came from or what had caused it, it was just there, the flames engulfing him. 

“ _No_?” It sounded like a question. “Why would you think that?”

Shrugging casually, Taemin pulled slightly at the leash when Adam tried to eat something from the sidewalk. 

“I don’t know, a passing thought.” 

“I’ve never done that.” Jonghyun’s voice was low as he walked next to Taemin, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. “ _Really_.” It seemed as if the other had to add this little word for emphasis to make Taemin believe that he was telling the truth, while Taemin said nothing, caught up in his thoughts.

“Why me, then?”

A soft snort. “Taemin, have you ever looked at yourself? Like, actually _looked_?”

He had, and on an average day Taemin didn’t like what he saw: _lanky and way too skinny, tummy too soft, no definition, cheeks fat and round like a hamster’s who stored food. Not tall enough, features not sharp enough, upper lip looking like an accident with scotch tape, stretch marks where he shouldn’t have any, hands small, feet small, everything small_. In Taemin’s eyes, there was nothing about him that could have appealed to someone like Jonghyun, who might come in pocket-size but was still the most attractive person Taemin had ever laid his eyes on. 

By the time they got back, Taemin’s mother was setting up the table in the living room for lunch, a surprised little sound falling from her lips as she saw Adam and Eve spreading tiny little paw prints on the floor.

“Bath – _Bathroom_ – immediately,” she delegated quickly. “I didn’t wipe the floor yesterday for you to bring the puppies home looking like drowned rats.” 

Taemin held onto their leash to prevent them from intruding further into the house, his face strained as he thought about how he was most likely taking a shower along with the dogs. He picked them both up after taking off his jacket and shoes, their muddy fur and paws ruining his long-sleeve, their faces innocent and cute, neither of them minding being dirty.

Jonghyun followed him up the stairs like a shadow, Taemin feeling his eyes burn holes into his back. 

“You can go back to my room. I don’t know how long it will take – Eve is like a ticking time bomb when it comes to taking a bath. He hates it,” Taemin said as he halted in front of the bathroom, Jonghyun opening the door for him. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind helping. It’s my fault that they wallowed in mud, after all.”

The bathroom wasn’t big. Taemin already felt crammed in it when he was alone, and Eve began to struggle in his arms when Jonghyun closed the door behind them and it dawned on him that he wasn’t here for snacks and cuddles.

“ _Shh_ – it’s okay,” Taemin tried his best to calm him, the cold wetness of the mud seeping through his long-sleeve. One by one he sat the dogs down, Adam for once being the calmer of the two, who didn’t mind water at all and loved being shampooed. Eve, on the other hand, ran over to the door and scratched at it, whimpering heartbreakingly, as if Taemin intended to murder him. 

“Hey little man, no need to be so hysterical. No one’s going to do anything.” Jonghyun kneeled next to Eve and talked to him in a soothing voice to distract him while cradling his head. “It will be over quickly if you calm down. It’s just water, Eve. It’s not going to harm you.” 

_Soft boy._ Taemin smiled to himself as Adam scurried around the small room, sniffing the white tiled floor, the bottom of the sink, and the toilet, his tail gently wagging around. Grabbing the dog shampoo from the cabinet hanging over the washbasin, Taemin pulled his long-sleeve over his head, tossing it into a hamper standing in the corner. Apart from it being dirty already, he knew it would be drenched in water after he was finished with the dogs. Unhindered by the look Jonghyun darted at him, he also took off his jeans and socks and placed them far away from the shower hose. 

“Long nails.”

Taemin looked up when Jonghyun spoke, frowning until he followed the other’s eyes down to his tummy, his hand automatically reaching around to cover the scratches under his belly button.

“Not really,” he commented. “She just came.”

It wasn’t anything notable to add, but Taemin was still proud of that achievement.

“Good for her, I guess.” 

Jonghyun’s focus had gone back to Eve, the small dog still nervously glancing around but not scratching at the door anymore, Jonghyun’s hand having calmed him enough for him to sit down. Taemin wanted to say that he would have preferred to make Jonghyun come instead, but he swallowed the words down, grabbed the showerhead, and turned on the water, Jonghyun holding Eve with two hands when the little toy poodle sprang up and wanted to hide behind his legs. Testing the temperature with his hand, Taemin crouched down to shower Adam first, holding a hand in front of the dog’s eyes to prevent water from getting into them, the water turning brown as it dripped from his fur and ran into the drain. In the middle of shampooing Adam, Taemin’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans, but unable to pick it up, he let it be and tried to get the mud out of the Maltese’s fur as quickly as possible, soaping his paws one by one before washing it all off, Jonghyun’s voice a constant buzz in his ear as he talked to Eve. 

Adam shook himself as soon as Taemin was done with him, water flying all around, covering Taemin as well as Jonghyun. Taemin grimaced at the small dog, who looked even more like a drowned rat now than he had before, his body shrunken by at least two sizes and two black orbs staring up at Taemin. 

“I guess it’s best if you hold him and I’ll try to make the best out of it,” Taemin instructed Jonghyun, who merely nodded and came over holding a struggling Eve in both hands, his socks already drenched in water as he moved along the wet floor. 

Showering Eve was like a wrestling match, the toy poodle developing the strength of a Kangal Shepherd Dog, fighting in Jonghyun’s arms while Taemin showered him, his little claws scratching along the tiles and low whimpers echoing through the room.

“He can be so dramatic. It’s not like you are getting killed, Eve,” Taemin said with a whine, water splashing against his face and the sleeves of Jonghyun’s sweater already soaked, one half-heartedly pulled up. His hands touched Jonghyun’s more than once when he rubbed shampoo into the small dog’s fur, each contact sending small shocks down his fingertips, lips pressing tightly together as he wondered if it felt like that to Jonghyun as well. He remembered Minho’s words: ‘ _The spectrum between liking someone and loving someone is very big._ ’ What did Taemin mean to Jonghyun? Where was he on that spectrum?

A sigh of relief fell from his lips when they were finally done and he turned off the water, Eve shaking himself.

“At least they smell nice again,” Taemin tried to find something positive in having taken his second shower of the day and grabbed two towels, handing one of them to Jonghyun.

“I didn’t bring any clothes.” 

Taemin looked over at Jonghyun, who was toweling Adam, his sweater and jeans having taken on a deeper shade of black, if that was even possible. 

“Sorry about that. I’ll give you some of mine.”

“Thanks.”

There was a twinge of awkwardness that didn’t want to leave, standing tall and proud like a soldier between their bodies, every interaction carrying an ounce of dread; a fear of the unknown. _What did Jonghyun want from him?_ It was the one question Taemin needed to ask but couldn’t, his tongue heavy in his mouth whenever the thought popped up in his head. 

The two dogs were wrapped into their bathrobes after being dried off, each having the dogs’ initials stitched into the fabric, a fact that Jonghyun found both ridiculous and endearing, and Eve darted out of the room as soon as he opened the door. After grabbing his jeans and socks Taemin marched to his room, holding the jeans securely in front of his chest in case his mother came upstairs. She didn’t know of any tattoos and Taemin wanted to keep it that way. 

“Are a hoodie and sweatpants okay or do you want jeans?” Taemin asked as he stood in front of his wardrobe, his pants thrown over his shoulder. 

“Whatever you can spare.” 

He tensed when Jonghyun stepped behind him, a situation the other would have used to hug him from behind in the past, but now his arms remained at his sides, the distance between them so big that Taemin was afraid they might not be able to overcome it.

“Black?” He rummaged through his closet and pulled out a sweater from a pile of folded clothes.

“Preferable.”

The black sweater was joined by a simple pair of black sweats and socks, Jonghyun thankfully taking the clothes only to walk back to the bathroom again and get changed. Taemin deemed that behavior odd, considering that he had seen the other naked so often in the past, but maybe that was the reason; maybe Jonghyun thought Taemin would be uncomfortable if he undressed in front of him. Taemin took out a red sweater for himself, pulled it over his head, and threw his jeans into the closet, exchanging them for more comfortable gray sweatpants that he considered taking back to Seoul when he left for university again. His stomach twisted at the thought. Traveling back to Seoul and returning to his daily life there seemed so far away. He had to retake exams, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything.

When Jonghyun came back, Taemin sent him a small smile. He liked seeing the other in his clothes; it felt like a part of him was wrapped around Jonghyun now and his scent would accompany him wherever he went. 

Later they went downstairs for lunch and Jonghyun got to meet Taemin’s dad, who was already sitting at the table, engrossed in a conversation with Taemin’s mother about volunteering at church. Jonghyun introduced himself politely and as shyly as he had done in front of Taemin’s mother before he sat down, that timid sight still so foreign that Taemin had no idea how to interpret his behavior. 

Taemin’s dad was a sturdy little man with glasses on his nose and a kind smile, who bombarded Jonghyun with random quotes from Korean writers after finding out that one of his majors was literature. They bonded quickly over their shared love for the author Han Kang and her story _The White Book_ , Taemin knowing the author but not ever having touched a single work of hers, quietly sitting at the table and eating the Hanwoo Yukgaejang his mother had cooked.

“Do you want to work at a publishing house after graduating, Jonghyun?” Taemin’s mother chirped halfway through lunch. She had as little knowledge about literature as Taemin did and wanted to stir the conversation into a direction everyone could participate in.

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. But a job as an editor might be nice.” Jonghyun answered, sitting up as straight as he possibly could while picking up some kimchi, Taemin remembering all the times the other had been hunched over books at the kitchen table at the dorm.

“Your father and mother must be very proud.” 

Taemin stopped chewing as the expression on Jonghyun’s face changed. It was subtle and most likely not noticeable to his parents, but Taemin knew that face as he had evoked it as well in the past. 

“It’s only my mother, my sister, and I, but yes – my mother is very proud,” he explained and put on a smile, one that was so fake that it surprised Taemin when his mother reciprocated it without question. 

“Did she raise you by herself?” 

Gnawing his lip, Taemin wondered if he needed to intervene, knowing his mother well and knowing that she liked to interrogate people like a detective. 

“Yes, my father left when I was still very young. She took on several jobs to provide for the family when I was in elementary school.”

Licking a corn of rice from the corner of his lips, Taemin kept an eye on Jonghyun, who had stopped eating altogether and placed his utensils next to him on the table.

“That must have been very hard for your mother.”

It must have been, but Jonghyun had never talked with Taemin about this part of his life, the same way he avoided any conversation regarding his childhood in general. It was a big black spot on the map Taemin had created of Jonghyun over the past few months.

“She’s the strongest person I know.”

That answer conjured a smile on his mother’s face and she cocked her head to the side, resting a palm against her chest.

“That melts a mother’s heart. Taemin would never say such a thing.”

Taemin’s eyes widened when he heard his name and he looked over at his mother, who seemed a little disappointed by the realization that her son wasn’t as warm and generous with praise as this stranger who had come into their house. 

“Taemin only says good things about you and that you are the best mother one could wish for.”

While her eyes lit up, Taemin blinked repeatedly, immensely confused. It wasn’t a lie per se; Taemin loved his parents and wouldn’t exchange them for anyone in the world, but that was nothing he had ever mentioned in front of any of his flat-mates, as he didn’t want to appear like a mama’s boy. 

“He does? That’s nice to hear,” she smiled. “Taemin is not very affectionate most of the time.”

“Kyeongsoon, he’s nineteen and not five anymore,” his father interjected, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

“Taemin was the prettiest child, Jonghyun. He had these big bright eyes and was always smiling and so cuddly. One of his first words was ‘hug’. He always wanted to hug everyone,” she told Jonghyun as Taemin slowly slipped down in his seat, wanting to hide underneath the table, his cheeks heating up when Jonghyun cast him a glance and smiled. That story was far less cool than telling Jonghyun how he had bit people who had been mean to him as a kid.

“He’s still pretty, isn’t he?” Jonghyun commented and looked back at Taemin’s mother. Agreeing with a low laugh, she reached over to stroke Taemin’s cheek, but he immediately dodged her advances and pulled away. _Embarrassing_.

“Did he ever introduce a girl to you? Has he met anyone in school, Jonghyun? He never talks about these things.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Taemin whined, wanting to kick her underneath the table, but reminding himself that he couldn’t kick his mother. What was Jonghyun supposed to answer to that? That he hadn’t brought a girl home yet, but the two of them had spent the past few months fucking each other until everything had gotten to be too much and they had stopped talking? 

“No, he hasn’t introduced us to anyone _yet_ ,” Jonghyun responded and leaned back into his chair. The answer didn’t seem to please her, which baffled Taemin. Shouldn’t she be relieved to know that he wasn’t running around campus, impregnating girls? 

“I need to study, Mom. I have no time to date.” It was the lousiest excuse he could’ve come up with, but his father seemed pleased, sending him a thumbs-up over the table. He didn’t dare to look at Jonghyun after that, afraid of what kind of expression he would see.

The two of them helped Taemin’s mother clean up the table after lunch while she teased him in front of Jonghyun throughout, telling him that ‘ _Taemin usually never helped her with cleaning up, and only did it now to act as if he was a good son’_. Jonghyun laughed along with her and Taemin sulked at both of them, telling Jonghyun that ‘ _he did help her out sometimes’_. Jonghyun thanked her multiple times for lunch and for letting him stay at their house, to which she responded by showering him with gratitude for keeping an eye on Taemin and taking it upon himself to travel so far to visit his junior, saying that it was natural to let him stay here for the night. It was cute seeing Jonghyun all flustered with some blush on his cheeks; he appeared to not be used to so much praise. 

After going back to the second floor, Taemin showed Jonghyun his father’s study, which his mother had prepared while they had taken a stroll outside, pulling out the sofa bed in the corner and putting on clean sheets. Jonghyun was stunned by the number of books in the room. The study looked more like a little library, with bookshelves made out of dark mahogany and filled with fictional and non-fictional books occupying the majority of the space. Beneath the window on the other side of the room stood a desk, sunshine dipping the floor in a soft glow at this time of day. Jonghyun grabbed his backpack from Taemin’s room and placed it next to the bed before they settled down in front of Taemin’s TV to play video games on his PlayStation 4. 

There were so many things they still needed to talk about, that they needed to discuss, but Taemin didn’t know where to start and Jonghyun seemingly pretended like their previous conversation hadn’t even taken place as he locked in Kitana on Taemin’s PS4 version of Mortal Kombat, his legs crossed as he sat on the carpet. Jonghyun had been crying mere hours ago, but now he had gone back to acting like normal, making little sounds as his character fought against Taemin’s Scorpion, fists, blood, and body parts flying through the air as they continued battling each other on-screen. Taemin didn’t dare to be happy about Jonghyun’s confession, fearing that the other would shy away and put insuperable barriers in their way to avoid being honest with himself about his feelings. Having feelings for someone was one thing, acting on them a completely different one. 

Taemin wasn’t able to concentrate and lost three games in a row, only vaguely perceiving the ring of the doorbell downstairs and the echo of his dogs’ barks complementing it. Only when the door to his room opened did he look up, his eyes meeting Jongin’s. 

“Yah, why are you not writing me back, you _assho_ – _oh_.” Jongin cut himself off halfway as he registered that Taemin wasn’t the only person in the room and he bowed his head apologetically, his eyes darting back and forth between Taemin and Jonghyun, the wheels in his head visibly turning. “Hey,” he said then, sounding more reserved, his tone having gone from boorish to friendly.

“Hey,” Jonghyun replied, and Taemin realized that he had forgotten to answer his friend’s text messages.

“Sorry, I forgot to answer you.”

“I noticed.” Jongin closed the door and came closer, wavering between standing awkwardly in the room and sitting down. 

“That’s Jonghyun – my flat-mate from –”

“I know who he is,” Jongin interjected briskly and decided to sit down next to Taemin. The background music of the video game sounded throughout the room, suspenseful and mystical, their characters’ bodies swaying back and forth, waiting for Jonghyun and Taemin to press a button. 

“Jonghyun – that’s Jongin,” Taemin continued then, his flat-mate lifting his hand in greeting. 

“What are you doing here?” Jongin asked straight-out.

“I wanted to talk to Taemin.”

“ _Talk_?” Jongin put the word in quotation marks as he spoke, Taemin sending him a warning look that was ignored. “Should I leave, then?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Taemin looked over at Jonghyun, who had objected immediately. “I don’t want to interfere with any plans you might have had.”

Did Jonghyun want to buy time? Time for him to think about what he wanted to say to Taemin?

Jongin scratched his head sheepishly. “Plans? I don’t know if playing video games all day should be considered a _plan_.” 

“You can have my controller if you want.” Jonghyun held the black controller towards Jongin, who eyed it skeptically for a second before taking it.

Taemin wanted him to leave, not because he disliked Jongin being in his room, but he feared that his presence would only play into Jonghyun’s cards and help him to avoid any further confrontation. Maybe Jonghyun _was_ a coward – afraid of facing his feelings and talking about them out loud. They couldn’t discuss anything in front of Jongin without it turning awkward for everyone involved.

Taemin couldn’t remember time ever ticking by so slowly. While he played Mortal Kombat against Jongin, Jonghyun sat next to them without saying anything or showing any reaction. He merely watched, legs stretched out and his upper body propped up on his hands. It bothered Taemin that he was as clueless as he had been before Jonghyun’s arrival, that nothing was clear, nothing was said, a big _nothing_ drifting through his head. 

A FIFA session followed several rounds of Mortal Kombat ‘ _fatalities’_ , Jonghyun declining every offer to play against one of them and Jongin sending Taemin questioning looks he could only answer with a shrug. It took almost three hours and a visit by Taemin’s mother, who brought them drinks, for Jongin to shift from empty rambles about video games to asking an obvious question.

“Hey Jonghyun,” he began and waited for the other to look over. “Can I take it that you like him? Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a reason for you to be here, right?” 

Taemin’s cheeks heated up and he stared at the TV screen, focusing on kicking the ball over the field. 

“I do, yeah.” 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Taemin shot the ball and hit the goalpost. This whole scene seemed surreal, him being squished between his best friend and his crush.

“Why were you playing video games when I came in, then? Shouldn’t you be more interested in other stuff? Doing some rekindling – that kind of thing?” 

“ _Dude, shut it_ ,” Taemin shushed, kicking Jongin’s knee with his foot, the heat rising to his ears. That certainly wasn’t the push he had intended for Jonghyun to get. 

“Thank you for sending me that message. Worrying about your friend like that – that’s admirable.” Jonghyun elegantly dodged the question as he had done with so many of Taemin’s in the past. Maybe Jongin would get a taste of what Taemin had gone through for the past semester, realizing that talking to Jonghyun felt like talking to a wall if a topic was addressed that the other didn’t want to talk about. 

“Well, who likes to see his best friend be upset about someone who likes to play little mind games?” 

“I didn’t. At least, not on purpose,” Jonghyun replied, Taemin not wanting to be part of this conversation although he was the main point of it. 

Jongin snorted. “You guys from the city are really weird.”

He left it at that, didn’t add an explanation, didn’t try to justify his statement, and Jonghyun didn’t disagree with him, saying, “I know, right?” instead and turning back to look at the TV screen, Taemin none the wiser. He wanted to yell at Jonghyun and ask him what his business was, to tell him that acting like a mysterious, short-spoken vampire wasn’t the cool aesthetic he probably thought it was, but instead he tackled one of Jongin’s players to the ground and collected a yellow card for it. The sun wandered around the room, first falling onto Jonghyun, then the TV and Taemin and finally Jongin before it disappeared, day turning into night and Taemin’s mother coming up to ask whether Jongin wanted to stay for dinner. 

They had spent hours playing pointless video games, their sole purpose being a person’s wish to escape reality, and that was exactly what Taemin wanted to do. He wanted to crawl into the TV and be a pixelated character who didn’t need to make his own choices but was dependent on the will of the player on the other side of the screen. If only he could press X on his controller to make himself talk openly to Jonghyun – or even better, press ▲ and make Jonghyun talk to _him_. 

Dinner was a sobering affair. Taemin picked at his rice and kimchi as his mother underwent her second round of interrogating Jonghyun, whose responses were polite but vague, her question of whether he had a girlfriend simply answered with a ‘ _No’_ and a soft smile. Something inside of Taemin wanted the other to answer with ‘ _No, but I’m in love with your son’_ instead, but what purpose would that serve other than giving his parents an impromptu heart attack? 

“Will you join us for church tomorrow?” 

Taemin stopped chewing, expecting to hear another ‘No’ from Jonghyun, but instead he heard, “I didn’t bring any clothes appropriate for church.”

“Don’t worry, dear. Taemin can lend you some. It would be nice if you came with us. We got a new pastor in December of last year and his sermons are so lovely.” 

She smiled at him in that motherly fashion she had mastered so well, that smile that was hard to say no to, and what other choice than saying ‘yes’ did Jonghyun have? 

“I would be happy to come, then,” is what he said with a forced smile, but what Taemin heard was, _‘Do you know that the concept of religion is a stupid one and you’re brainwashed by the church? Making your success in life dependent on someone who doesn’t exist? Listening to scriptures that were written by some people thousands of years ago and hold no real value for today’s society? How can you condone scriptures that claim that not all love is equal, that not all people are the same?’_

Taemin looked up when his name was called and he searched for its source, finding it in his mother.

“ _Mmh_?” He blinked.

“Lay out a shirt and pants for him when you go back up. Mass is at 10 am, so don’t stay up too late.” 

The last comment was unnecessary, but Taemin nodded, trying to eat some meat, although he didn’t feel like eating at all. 

When they got back to Taemin’s room, he expected the three of them to continue playing video games again and pretend that this whole situation wasn’t ridiculous, but Jonghyun excused himself by saying that he was tired because he hadn’t slept on the bus at all and the lack of sleep was now creeping up on him, so he only wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Taemin didn’t want him to go, didn’t want to spend the night overthinking the whole day and dissecting every little action, but he let Jonghyun leave and looked after him as he disappeared into the study at only 7 pm. Another day had gone by without any satisfactory answers. 

“What’s his problem?” Jongin asked in a whisper as soon as the two of them were back in Taemin’s room, Taemin shrugging in reply and taking a cigarette from his secret stash.

“At this stage, I’m convinced there is more than one.” He opened the window and lit the cigarette, the moon high up in the sky, not obscured by a veil of clouds. 

“When did he get here?”

“This morning.”

“Damn,” Jongin replied and lay down on Taemin’s bed. “What a coincidence. You sleep with your ex and he shows up the next day. Maybe he has something like a six sense.”

Taemin shook his head, took a drag, and leaned against the windowsill as he looked outside. Everything was tranquil. “I sent him a photo last night. I guess that made him want to come here.”

“A photo? Of what? You fucking Yoomi?” Jongin chuckled.

“No,” Taemin took another deep pull on his cigarette and breathed out again. “But it was a dumb photo. I shouldn’t have taken it, let alone sent it.”

“But he’s here now. That’s all that matters, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Taemin shrugged. “I still have no idea what’s going on. So nothing has changed.”

“But at least you two are talking again.”

A tired laugh. “ _Yeah, at least we’re talking again_ ,” Taemin whispered and tipped off some ash from the end of his cigarette.

“So did he confess?”

“Kind of, I guess.” His brain hurt from thinking. “You should have told me that you sent him a message.

“And then?” Jongin sat up, resting his hands on the edge of the mattress. 

_And then?_ Good question. Taemin had no answer to that. 

“I don’t know what he’s so scared of. I’d never even been with a man until I met him; _I_ should be the one being scared – and yet I’m not.” One last drag and Taemin underwent his routine of pressing the cigarette out, throwing it into the wild, and trying to get the smoke out of his room by waving his hands around. 

“Which surprises me, to be honest.”

“Mh?” Taemin looked over at him as he chased the smell of cigarettes out of his room like an exorcist driving a demon out of a human. 

“That you are so chill about having feelings for a guy.”

Taemin closed the window and walked over to his bed to let himself fall onto the mattress next to Jongin. 

“I guess I simply don’t care,” he admitted, wondering what Jonghyun was up to. It was a mean thought, but rather than lying next to Jongin, he would have preferred to share his bed with Jonghyun.

“You never said anything.”

“About what? Liking guys?” 

Jongin nodded and Taemin reached for his pillow, squishing it and placing it under his head. “I don’t know. There was no reason for it. Look at the dudes in our year, they were all gross.”

That earned him a low chuckle and an agreeing hum.

“I don’t think I’ve ever given it much thought. Maybe I watched too much hentai,” Taemin grinned. “Sexuality rarely seems to matter there. Everyone is doing it with everyone and no one cares. It makes you curious, I guess.”

“Hentai broadens people’s horizons,” Jongin joked, which made Taemin laugh.

“That’s what I keep saying, but no one believes me and only gives me weird looks,” he went along and turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“That’s probably because of all the questionable stuff it depicts. That one series you linked me to a while ago was absolutely fucked up. Were you even able to finish it?” 

“I was, all six episodes,” Taemin said. He had been grossed out by the majority of it, but it was like a car accident: he simply hadn’t been able to look away, and before he knew it, the credits of the last episode had been running over the screen. 

“You are one big weirdo, man.” Taemin’s shoulder was pushed and in return, he showed his friend a peace sign, smile edging at his lips. 

“He’s into that shit as well?”

“Nope, unfortunately not,” Taemin remembered how Jonghyun had taken the descriptions way too seriously and had used Taemin’s favorite hentai as an example of what was wrong with the world. 

“ _Unfortunately_ ,” Jongin repeated and snorted. “Not everyone can get off to drawn tiddies.”

“Their loss, not mine.” 

Jongin got up and crouched down in front of the TV to turn it back on, Taemin following him to the floor to change the game in his console to _Overcooked_ , a game that forced them to work together instead of fighting each other. 

“You should go and talk to him, if he doesn’t have the guts to come to you,” Jongin said in the middle of cutting tomatoes for some burger, while Taemin’s little animated character ran around in a restaurant to serve their customers. “Tell him what you want and see where it goes from there.”

“He knows what I want,” Taemin huffed and leaned to the left, as if that would make his character walk any quicker to the left side of the screen.

“Maybe say it differently, then. One more round and I’ll head home – and then there is nothing to keep you from going to him.”

“He’s the one who traveled all night to see me; shouldn’t he also be the one talking to me?” Taemin argued, the tempo of the game speeding up as he prepared more dishes to be served.

“Probably, but maybe he needs an extra VIP invitation. I don’t know how these city people work.”

Taemin laughed. “ _These city people_. They are not that bad. You will get along with them, believe me.”

Jongin didn’t seem too convinced, eyeing him doubtfully, and went back to concentrate on the game. 

In the end, he left Taemin behind with a queasy feeling, worries spinning in his head as he halted in front of his father’s study on his way back to his room. He stood in front of the closed door for what felt like minutes, waiting for a sound, hands sweaty and cheeks warm, one hand clenched to a fist, ready to knock – but he didn’t; he just stood there, doing nothing. When all willpower left him, he padded back to his room with hanging shoulders, wondering if he was a coward as well. 

After getting ready for bed, Taemin couldn’t sleep and lay wide awake in a plain white t-shirt and boxers, overthinking his life. There were no dogs to keep him busy either, Adam and Eve having ignored him since their shower, the toy poodle making a big curve around him whenever Taemin had come near.

Unlocking his phone, a text from Minho blinked up on his screen, saying, _‘Have you heard from Jonghyun today? He has been gone all day – and I’m alone in the dorm. This is weird_.’ It didn’t surprise him that Jonghyun hadn’t told Minho of his departure, a part of him probably despising his flat-mate for having had sex with Taemin. 

_‘He’s here.’_

_‘Sorry, for replying so late.’_

_‘He’s staying for the night.’_

He replied in three texts, checking the news and his social media handles while waiting for a possible reply. 

_‘Wait – he traveled to your place?’_

_‘I guess you’ve figured things out then?_ ’ were the responses he received after five minutes, which he answered with a simple but honest, ‘ _Yeah, he has, and_ _no, actually we haven’t’_. 

He browsed his Jonghyun picture folder, turned onto his side, and scrolled through the obnoxiously high number of photos containing just Jonghyun’s mouth and tongue and his chest and dick. Well aware that his cock would only strain in his boxers if he looked at the pictures for too long, he went back to the harmless ones, the cute ones that made Taemin want to have answers, to walk to the room next door, only one wall separating him from the other. 

_‘You haven’t?’_

_‘No. It’s complicated,’_ Taemin typed, finding the word ‘ _complicated’_ quite useful these days, because it let him avoid facing his own emotions. 

_‘It’s always complicated with you two, isn’t it?’_

It was, but that wasn’t Taemin’s fault. If it were up to him, they would not be in his hometown right now but in Seoul. If it were up to him, they wouldn’t lie in separate beds right now but be sharing one.

Ignoring Minho’s last message, he sighed when the clock in the upper corner of his phone read 23:42. Around this time last night he had been in bed with a woman, thinking that he wouldn’t ever talk to Jonghyun again, and only 24 hours later the tables had turned. He went back to looking at photos of Jonghyun, hoping that they would give him the answers he was looking for, but the Jonghyun in the photos didn’t bother talking to him, leaving him frustrated and sleepless. If one thought about it, the real Jonghyun didn’t bother talking to him either and left him frustrated and sleepless, a condition Taemin had a hard time accepting. 

Past midnight, he was about to put his phone aside after setting his alarm clock for the morning when his screen lit up, a text from Jonghyun displayed, asking him if he was still awake, which he answered with a simple ‘ _Yeah_.’

 _‘Can I come over?_ ’ 

Gnawing on his lips, the words danced in front of Taemin’s eyes, heart quickening in his chest as he wondered if this was a good idea with his parents sleeping on the same floor. He turned the idea over in his head until he decided that he couldn’t wait until the next morning to receive explanations, that he would only toss and turn around in his bed, waiting for the sun to come up again. 

‘ _Sure_.’ he answered eventually and waited, eyes glued to his door after he turned on his bedside lamp, ears pricked up, listening for the tiniest sound. There was a soft knock about a minute later and the door opened slightly, Jonghyun taking a peek inside with fluffy hair and his round, black-framed glasses sitting on his nose. He still wore Taemin’s sweater but had taken off the sweatpants and stepped inside wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs on his lower half. Holding a small white book in his hand, he closed the door, hesitating for a moment before he came up to the bed.

“Can’t sleep either?” Taemin asked and sat up, blanket bunching up around his waist. 

Jonghyun shook his head and stopped at the foot of the bed, kneeling in front of it instead of sitting on the mattress. “No, not really.” 

When Jonghyun didn’t say anything else, Taemin grew uneasy and looked at the book, its cover obscured by the other’s hand resting on top of it.

“What do you have there?” 

“ _Ah_ ,” Jonghyun raised his hand as if he had forgotten that he was carrying a book around. “I was curious what kind of books your father has in his little library, so I browsed the shelves and found this here. Have you read it?” 

On the cover was a little boy dressed in green clothes and standing on a tiny planet, with the words _The little Prince_ written above.

“Yeah, sure. My mom read it to me when I was little.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Jonghyun said and stroked the cover with his fingers. “I read it earlier and thought –” He tapped the book lightly before he looked up at Taemin. “Do you remember the chapter about the prince meeting the fox?”

Taemin’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember the story, but it had been too long. “Only very vaguely. Why?”

“Would you mind reading it?”

Furrowing his brows, Taemin tilted his head. He had expected them to talk about their relationship, or more like their non-existent relationship, not about books. “Sure. You can leave it and I’ll read it later.”

“I mean now. Reading the chapter with the fox is enough. It’s very short.”

“ _Okay_?” Mildly confused, Taemin took the book Jonghyun handed him. “What page?” He skimmed through the book, looking at a few of the colored illustrations, his memories of reading it as a kid slowly coming back to him. 

“21 or 22, I believe. There is a drawing of the fox hiding in a burrow underneath a tree.”

Taemin didn’t dare to question Jonghyun’s motivation for coming to his room with a children’s book after midnight but accepted the reality as it was, found the chapter quickly and started reading, only to be unable to concentrate, knowing that the other was sitting at the foot of his bed, watching him. He didn’t even manage to finish the first page before he sighed in frustration.

“I can’t read when you’re looking at me.”

“Shall I read it to you, then?” 

He had been six the last time someone had read him a story out loud, but Taemin was too tired to argue and tell Jonghyun to stop treating him like a child again and therefore simply handed the book back. “Can you at least come up here? It’s super weird to always have to look down at you.”

“You don’t mind?” Jonghyun faltered.

“No.” Taemin patted the mattress next to him. His bed at home was much bigger than the one in Seoul, two people easily able to sleep in it without having to touch each other. “Come.” Lifting his blanket, he held it until Jonghyun got over himself, climbed on top of the bed, and settled down next to Taemin, leaving more space between their bodies than Taemin would have liked. Jonghyun leaned against the wall in his back while Taemin lay down, his head coming down to rest on his pillow as he turned onto his side to look at the other. 

_It was then that the fox appeared. "Good morning," said the fox. "Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing. "I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree." "Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at." "I am a fox," the fox said. "Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy." "I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed." "Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince. But, after some thought, he added: "What does that mean--'tame'?”_

Jonghyun began to read in a soothing tone, distorting his voice depending on the speaker. He gave the prince a higher pitch and the fox a huskier one, his efforts making Taemin smile as he lay there and pulled his blanket up to his nose and listened. There must have been a reason why Jonghyun wanted him to read that specific chapter, why it was so important to him that he read it now and not sometime later. 

_“It means to establish ties." "'To establish ties'?" "Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”_

Taemin repeated the words in his head and watched Jonghyun closely, his glasses slipping down his nose, needing to be pushed back up occasionally. 

_“If you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat. Please – tame me.”_

He couldn’t help but swallow as it slowly dawned on him why Jonghyun had deemed it necessary to read this story. Did he see Taemin and himself in it? He suddenly remembered what the prince had said shortly after that and said it out loud, said, “What must I do to tame you?” to which Jonghyun continued to read.

_“You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me – like that – in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . ." The next day the little prince came back. "It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you.” So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry." "It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ." "Yes, that is so," said the fox. "But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince. "Yes, that is so," said the fox. "Then it has done you no good at all!" "It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields.”_

His attention hanging on Jonghyun’s lips, Taemin watched them form each word with care, the little red spot on his bottom lip distinct.

 _“Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed,”_ was the last phrase Jonghyun read out loud before he closed the book and held onto it with both hands as it rested in his crotch. Taemin waited for him to say something. He gave Jonghyun time; no matter how long it would take him to speak, Taemin didn’t want to say anything despite the burdening, deafening silence. 

“What if I’m the fox?” Jonghyun said finally, looking down at the book in his hands, his fingers tightening around it. 

Taemin licked his lips, the sheets rustling as he moved his legs underneath and pulled them closer to his chest. “Do I have to tame you?”

His heart made a jump when Jonghyun looked over at him and their eyes met, that familiar fuzzy feeling returning to his stomach as he tried to hold the other’s gaze.

“What if you already did?”

Chest swelling, Taemin had trouble speaking, his pulse rising through the roof, blood tingling in his veins as it rushed to his head and the tips of his fingers. 

“I don’t mind taking responsibility,” Taemin replied in a whisper and carefully reached out, wrapped two fingers around Jonghyun’s pinky, waited, _waited, and waited_ until Jonghyun’s fingers curled around his.

“Are you sure?” 

Taemin answered with a hum, eyes wandering along the other’s face.

“Can I ask you something?” Taemin’s voice was low as he felt it unfitting to speak any louder. 

“Of course.” 

Taemin nervously bit his lip and tried to work out what he wanted to say. 

“I –” he furrowed his brows. “I – _I mean_ – where are we going from here? I mean – this, with us? What is this?” Taemin asked, hesitantly adding, “If I understood you correctly – you have feelings for me too?”

“I have,” Jonghyun replied and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his other hand, pushing his glasses almost up to his forehead. 

“Since when?” 

Jonghyun took a long breath and pulled his hand out of Taemin’s grasp to tug at the sleeves of his sweater, fingertips nervously playing with the cuffs. “I’m not sure, to be honest – it was a creeping process, I guess.” He pressed his lips together and looked at Taemin. “I think I was certain about it after the night we went out. You went back to your room to sleep alone after we had another argument – and I realized that I just couldn’t fall asleep without you anymore. I think it dawned on me then that you’ve _tamed me_.”

He went on to pull the sleeves even longer, his arms almost looking like the tentacles of an octopus. 

“You came to my room later,” Taemin recalled, eyes focused on the black of Jonghyun’s sweater. 

“Yeah, and you clung to me all night.” There was a smile edging at Jonghyun’s lips as he stared and reminisced, heat rising to Taemin’s face at the memory. 

“I don’t understand why you’ve never said anything. I tried so hard to get your attention,” Taemin sighed with a scowl, thinking about all the dumb stuff he had tried to convince Jonghyun of wanting to be with him, even going so far as to read up on politics to try an intellectual approach. 

“ _Taemin-ah_ ,” Jonghyun said softly. “You had my attention the second you moved in. Just look at you.”

Taemin shook his head. “Not physical attention, I mean emotional,” Taemin corrected him.

“Because I’m a coward. I’m scared of feelings getting reciprocated. It’s not like I have never been in a relationship for no reason.” Jonghyun pushed the sleeves of the sweater up to his elbows now, the black beaded bracelet his sister had given him dangling on his wrist.

“But it’s me we are talking about here,” Taemin placed his hands on his chest. “I don’t know what guys you’ve met in the past, but it’s me – literally just me. Your friendly neighborhood nerd from the countryside.” He tried to lighten the atmosphere in the room with a little humor, coaxing a pleasant laugh from Jonghyun’s mouth. 

“Taemin, I don’t know how any of this works,” he groaned.

“I can show you,” Taemin offered. “I mean, I’m not an expert, but I –” His voice got softer. “I mean, small steps – we could press reset and start a new campaign.”

Jonghyun looked at him with something that appeared like doubt. “This is not a computer game.” 

“I know,” Taemin sighed. “I’m just saying: can’t we just leave this all behind – the last few weeks, everything that went wrong – and start anew? Including all the things you think we’ve skipped? Small steps, baby steps, _turtle steps_? Just let me prove that there is nothing to be scared of.” Taemin tried to convince the other of at least trying to give them a fair and proper chance, getting his old determination back, which he had thought long lost.

The wariness on the other’s face was evident, so Taemin reached out again and clasped his hand around Jonghyun’s, squeezing it in what he hoped was reassurance. He had waited so long for Jonghyun to finally come out of his shell, to finally admit that they were more than friends, to _finally admit_ that Taemin wasn’t delusional, that there had been something that ran deeper than mere sexual attraction all along, that he wasn’t alone with his feelings. He didn’t want to give up now after Jonghyun had probed out his antenna and was at least willing to talk about it without feeling like running away or dodging Taemin’s questions. 

“Whatever absurd scenario you’ve come up with, it won’t come true,” he said. “I might not be able to promise you a happily ever after, but I can tell you that there won’t be a girlfriend on the side suddenly showing up.” 

He squeezed Jonghyun’s hand again and then pulled it towards his face, feeling Jonghyun tense as he nestled his cheek against it. His heart beat unhealthily fast against his ribcage, wanting to get out and jump into Jonghyun’s arms, wanting to be held and protected by him. He had missed him so much. 

“Instead of fantasizing about the worst outcome, why don’t you think about the best outcome for once?” Taemin continued. “Have you ever thought about the advantages of having a younger partner? Or about how nice it would be to have a military boyfriend? Just imagine me coming back for a visit dressed up in my uniform. Don’t you think it would be hot to bang me in that uniform?” he rambled bravely, provoking the other on purpose, and felt Jonghyun’s fingertips dig into his skin. 

“You’re impossible.” Jonghyun pulled away with a whine and gave his shoulder a little push. 

Taemin grinned. “You just imagined it, didn’t you?” he accused, Jonghyun shaking his head not very convincingly.

“I did not,” he claimed, Taemin chuckling lowly in his throat. He preferred seeing Jonghyun like this above anything else. It was refreshing, taking some weight off his shoulders. 

“What division should I apply for? Imagine I get into the Marine Corps. Don’t they have those white uniforms for special events? I would look hot in one of those, don’t you think?” Taemin teased.

“Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun wailed again and pressed his hands over his ears as he turned away from him. Spurred on by the other’s reaction, Taemin skidded over to him, ready to play the devil’s advocate for once. It had been so long since they had been this close that there was excitement boiling up in his stomach, the anxiety and anger swirling around in his mind forgotten when his hand tugged at Jonghyun’s to remove it from his ear, lips moving close to whisper, “Or imagine you having your own little apartment, and I come over and we cuddle on the couch and I eat you out in front of the TV without any care in the world.” 

“ _Taemin-ah_ ,” Jonghyun grumbled and Taemin was so close to overcoming the last centimeters to kiss the skin behind his ear, need curling in his stomach as he thought about it, but he ended up not doing it, keeping his distance, his senses in turmoil.

“That sounds much nicer, doesn’t it?” Taemin gave Jonghyun some space when the other rolled around to face him again. “We could raise a puppy together; a Corgi, maybe.” 

He smiled at Jonghyun cheerfully, desperately wanting to leave all bad blood behind. He was so tired of arguing, of going in circles, of going back and forth. As naïve as it was, he just wanted a fresh start without having to worry about all the negativity that had surrounded their relationship. But he knew that this was impossible. They couldn’t flick a finger and forget everything that had happened. It wasn’t something he even wanted. He _wanted_ them to learn from the past so they wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes in the future.

“You are cute.” 

Three simple words underlined with the soft touch of Jonghyun’s hand on his cheek, fingers wandering up to glide through the short hair on the side of his head, setting his heart on fire. For once, he didn’t mind those words but smiled instead, surfing on a high, endorphins hosting a carnival in his brain.

“This really suits you,” Jonghyun commented in a low voice as Taemin melted at the touch, wanting to drown in it. “Would you mind if I stayed here for the night? Would that be okay?” His expression looked very soft in the light of the bedside lamp, his eyes shimmering beautifully, fingers curving around Taemin’s ear, and his heart pounded in his chest as he nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he replied, returning the little smile that was sent his way. 

“Thank you,” was all Jonghyun said, palm stroking down Taemin’s nape. There was hesitation in his every touch. Taemin wasn’t used to being handled so carefully by Jonghyun: every stroke, every contact asking for consent, the tiniest movement inducing a pause. 

“Do you really want to come to church with us tomorrow?” Taemin asked then. “You don’t have to. I know that this is not your thing.”

Jonghyun gave a soft smile, his hand wandering up again to caress Taemin’s temple, his fingers appearing to be on a journey to rediscover him. 

“I really don’t mind. Maybe I will go up in flames when I try to enter, though.”

Taemin pressed his head further into the softness of his pillow, hiding his face in it as he stifled a laugh, his hand remaining restless underneath the blanket, fingers curling into the sheets. 

“Is it that bad?” 

Jonghyun shrugged. “I’m not living the lifestyle of a devout Christian, am I?” 

“Your heart is in the right place; that's the only thing that matters.” Carefully reaching out, Taemin took off the big round glasses sitting on top of Jonghyun’s nose and put them on his bedside table, wanting to sink into the other’s eyes without a barrier separating them. 

“You think it is?” Jonghyun seemed unsure, his arm resting on top of the blanket now, so far away from Taemin’s face.

“I hope it is.” 

“But you called me an asshole.” 

Jonghyun wasn’t wrong. Taemin had called him the _a-word_ and at that time he had meant it.

“Because I was angry at you,” Taemin said honestly.

“What about now?” 

“A part of me is still angry.” 

“And what about the other part?”

Taemin looked past Jonghyun, focused on the white wall on the opposite side that was swallowed by darkness where the light of the bedside lamp didn’t reach.

“I think the other part is happy that you are here.”

Licking his lips, Taemin hesitated, folded his hands underneath his head, and bedded his cheek on them as his eyes wandered back towards Jonghyun. He hadn’t looked at the other like this for such a long time, unhurried and without distress, eyes following the light and shadow dancing on his face, stopping at the curl of the other’s lips. He wanted to kiss him, to lean forward and press their lips together; one simple kiss, a peck, a hint of it, something – _anything_. Would it feel different now that he knew of the other’s feelings?

“I missed talking to you.” Jonghyun shifted on the mattress, foot briefly brushing along Taemin’s shin before it was gone again. 

“Me too.” His eyes were still glued to the other’s lips but moved up to his eyes next, falling into their blackness. “ _Attack on Titan_ season 2 starts in April, and I was already afraid I would have to watch it alone.” It was a little lighthearted joke, his heart growing when Jonghyun laughed lowly in response. 

“That would have been awful.”

“I know, right?” Taemin acted outraged and gestured around, earning another chuckle, so soft and light that he wondered how he had gone on with his life without hearing it in weeks. 

“Hey Taemin,” Jonghyun asked, drawing Taemin’s attention back to his face. “Are you really going to stay here until the beginning of exam week?”

Taemin bit his lip, wavering. The reason why he had fled the city wasn’t in Seoul anymore but lay right in front of him, in an oversized sweater and boxers.

“What do you want me to do?” 

Jonghyun cocked his head, stared at him. “This is not about what I want.”

“But I’m asking you.” It was a test to see if the other was able to speak his mind without avoiding simple questions.

The older one pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbled on it as he looked at Taemin. “I’d like for you to come back with me. But if you want to spend more time with your family, _I_ –”

“I’ll come with you, then,” Taemin cut right in and smiled, while Jonghyun looked stunned. 

“It’s that easy to ask you for something?” 

“I told you that you can ask me for anything.”

Jonghyun’s fingers came up to gently brush stray strands of hair out of Taemin’s face. “Isn’t that too much, though?”

Taemin shook his head, warm fingertips caressing his cheek. “As long as you don’t ask me to jump from a bridge, I should be fine.”

“That is the first thing you came up with?” Jonghyun grinned. “Your brain is a fascinating place.” 

“But you already knew that.”

“Yeah, but still.” One last touch and Jonghyun pulled away, mirroring Taemin’s pose; bedding his head on his hands, he looked at him and smiled, Taemin not wanting to close his eyes out of fear that the other might be gone when he opened them again. He had no idea how long he lasted before his eyes fell shut, the bedside lamp remaining on and the two of them facing each other, distant and yet close. 

It had been an eventful day, starting with Taemin leaving a love hotel with his ex after having sex with her to receiving a text from Jonghyun in the morning asking Taemin to pick him up, only to end up sharing a bed with him at night. No matter how much he regretted having sent Jonghyun that distasteful photo, at least it had brought the other to him, and it might have not been the worst idea Taemin had ever had after all. 

* * *

The bridge of KoЯn’s [_Get up_](https://youtu.be/gYxEYxW3tVg?t=56) pulled Taemin out of his dreams and he groaned, tried burying his head underneath his pillow, only to stiffen when it didn’t meet the softness of feathers but a solid chest. Not the screaming and swearing from his phone made him open his eyes, but the realization that he hadn’t gone to bed alone and his body had decided to look for warmth during the night, his arms wrapped around Jonghyun’s waist. He recoiled instantly, murmured a “Sorry” under his breath, and rolled around to reach for his phone and turn off the screeching guitars and heavy drums. 

“That’s the worst song you could have chosen as an alarm clock.” Jonghyun’s voice was breathy and he stretched with a grimace as Taemin turned back to face him, his body not having booted up fully yet and his neck hurting. 

“But we’re up,” Taemin justified his choice, rubbed his face, and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that his hair was standing up in all directions, something it had started doing ever since he had visited the hairdresser for a cut. 

“But at what cost?” 

Jonghyun’s face was wrinkled from the pillow, his cheeks red, eyes puffy, a red pimple forming on his chin, unstyled hair coming down to his eyes. Taemin couldn’t remember the other ever looking that cute before and wanted to huddle up in his arms, kiss his face, settle between his thighs and let Jonghyun wrap his legs up around him. But before his mind drifted off completely he fought to get up from the bed, knowing that if he stayed a minute longer he would never leave his nest. 

“I’ll hang some stuff out for you and then I’ll take a quick shower,” he explained on his way to the wardrobe, scratching his lower back. He wanted to take a smoke as soon as he crossed the window but suppressed the urge for Jonghyun’s sake. He was too dazed to think about the previous night, thoughts foggy and not ready to be dismantled yet, body operating on muscle memory and not the active participation of Taemin’s brain.

Taemin owned two suits, one in black and the other in a dark blue, and he took them both out along with simple white shirts, one in a slimmer fit.

“Just choose whatever you prefer,” he said as he hung the hangers up on the door and pulled a drawer open to get boxers and socks.

“Would it be weird if I offered you boxers as well?” 

A low chuckle came from the bed. “It might be, but I would accept that offer.”

“ _’kay_. Just help yourself, then. They are in the upper drawer. Socks are underneath.” One last glance at the guest in his bed and Taemin made his way over to the door, leaving to head for the bathroom. His mother was already busy downstairs in the kitchen, evident by the sounds of pots rattling and the smell of soup wafting past his nose.

Stripping quickly, the shower he took was short: not long enough to let him fully wake up, not long enough to let him gather his thoughts, not long enough to let him process that he had woken up clinging to his flat-mate, as though this was the only thing his body was capable of doing. How normal it had felt to fall asleep and wake up next to Jonghyun as if they hadn’t spent weeks avoiding one another. 

Brushing his teeth and putting on lotion after his shower like Jonghyun had taught him to, Taemin came back in wearing just a pair of underwear to find the other buttoning up a shirt, the pair of black pants Taemin had laid out already sitting at Jonghyun’s hips with the zipper undone. For a second Taemin regretted not having come in a minute earlier to take a peek at the other’s naked chest. It had been so long since he had last seen it that he feared Jonghyun was simply teasing him by wearing sweaters even to bed. 

“My shoulders are too wide for the other shirt.” 

Taemin glanced up from the mole between Jonghyun’s collarbones that disappeared behind the last button Jonghyun closed and checked the fit of the shirt around the other’s shoulders. The two of them were built similarly: thin legs, not much ass to speak of, and a small waist, but Jonghyun’s shoulders were something Taemin couldn’t compete with even if he wanted to. 

“Are they naturally this wide?” 

“No,” Jonghyun laughed lowly and stuffed the shirt into his pants before closing them. “They used to look pretty much like yours.” 

A tiny pout found its way onto Taemin’s lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That I spent too much time at the gym after entering university.”

“I haven’t seen you go once since I moved in.” If he had, Taemin would have joined him, as he imagined Jonghyun to be less of a drill instructor during training than Minho was. 

“Yeah, I haven’t gone to one since I came back from the military,” Jonghyun explained and looked down at himself, smoothing the shirt. “Do I need to wear a tie?” 

Taemin smiled at him. “You don’t _need_ to do or wear anything. You could also have gone in a sweater and jeans. My mom just likes everyone to look tidy and neat when we go to church services on Sundays.”

“She seems very kind.”

“She is,” Taemin agreed and reached for the shirt still hanging on the door of his wardrobe, slipping it on while Jonghyun put on a pair of black socks. “Why did you go to the gym so often when you entered university?”

“Why are _you_ going to the gym?” Jonghyun redirected the question immediately and picked up his worn boxers from the floor, balling them in his hand. 

Taemin frowned. “Because I spend too much time in front of computers – so I try to balance it out a bit.”

“That’s the only reason?” 

“What are you trying to get at?” One last button and Taemin reached for the pants, climbing into them one leg at a time and pulling them up over his butt. 

“I went because I wanted to look good,” Jonghyun shrugged. “I thought guys liked that: wide shoulders, trained pecs, a six-pack, and muscular arms.”

“Because that’s something _you_ like?” Taemin grudgingly remembered Jonghyun swooning over Gong Yoo, who was someone with _wide shoulders, trained pecs, a six-pack, and muscular arms._

“I’m having déjà vu.” Jonghyun cocked his head with a smile. “I already told you that I don’t care.” He headed for the door, seemingly heralding the end of their conversation as he pressed down the door handle. “Do you own something like hair wax and pimple patches? A titan popped up on my chin during the night.” 

Taemin followed with a sigh, system booted up enough now to reflect on the night and all the questions he still had no answers to. The atmosphere was so mellow that Taemin wondered whether Jonghyun had used a _neuralyzer_ during the night, which had deleted all bad memories from his brain. It bugged him, but they didn’t have time to discuss anything now, as they had to go down for breakfast and head to church right after. 

“I have some in the bathroom. Levi Ackerman-approved. I’ll put them out for you.” 

He had a quick smoke after helping Jonghyun out, using a lot of citrus-scented air freshener on his clothes to kill the smell afterward, then went downstairs, where both his parents were already having breakfast, his mother smiling up at him when he walked into the living room.

“Good morning,” he greeted them and bent over when the two small fluffy traitors padded over to him, acting like they hadn’t ignored him the previous day and were best friends with him again. 

“Good morning, sweetheart. Where did you leave our guest?” 

Sitting down next to his mother, Taemin dug right in, picking up some rice and radish kimchi, the sad-looking bowl of chocolate flakes he ate at the dorm every day nothing compared to his mother’s breakfast table. There were plenty of dishes nicely arranged on the table, ranging from spicy stewed fish to seasoned kelp, his mouth watering as he took the first bite.

“In the bathroom. He’ll be here in a minute,” he answered with a full mouth, picking up some _galbi_ , grilled short ribs, and biting into them, savoring their taste.

“He seems like a sweet boy. I’m glad you have such lovely flat-mates. Makes me worry less about you when you’re so far away from home,” she said and reached forward to stroke through Taemin’s hair, as he was too slow to dart away.

“I’ll be traveling back to Seoul with him today.” Picking up more rice, Taemin watched the expression on his mother’s face change from a bright smile to grave disappointment.

“Already? But you’ve only been here for such a short time.” 

Licking the corner of his lips to pick up a single corn of rice, Taemin reached for the glass of juice his mother had placed next to his rice bowl. “It’s easier for me to concentrate on my studies when I’m in Seoul.” Another lie, and Taemin was surprised by how easily it had fallen from his lips; a white lie so others wouldn’t question his motives. 

“Your studies are important, Taemin. I’m glad you’re taking them so seriously,” his father threw in, holding a newspaper in one hand while eating with the other. 

_Seriously_. If they only knew what he had done in Seoul instead of studying. Taemin hadn’t told them that he had failed two classes and hoped he would never have to, that he would pass them at the second attempt and fill this black spot in his transcript without them ever finding out. 

When Jonghyun joined them, he did so with another bow, greeting Taemin’s parents politely, and taking the chair on the opposite side of Taemin, hands immediately reaching down to cradle the dogs’ heads, as they came up to him with wagging tails. A pimple patch had found its way onto his chin, his hair was parted at the side and combed out of his face, and his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, making him look like a decent young man who could easily work for a bank, with nothing left of his grim reaper aesthetic. He was like Superman, wearing his Clark Kent disguise. 

“Did you sleep well, Jonghyun?” Taemin’s mother asked as Jonghyun straightened up again and picked up some rice. The other rarely ate breakfast, merely drank a cup of black coffee in the morning. It was clear to Taemin that Jonghyun was having a hard time eating at all and was only doing so for Taemin’s mother’s sake.

“Yes, thank you.” An awkward smile on his lips, Jonghyun forced down some rice, sipping some juice that Taemin’s mother had poured for him and was most likely craving some caffeine. 

“Taemin told us that you want to leave us already.” 

Jonghyun looked over at Taemin’s mother. “Yes, I don’t want to give you any more trouble.”

She waved him off immediately, put on that motherly smile Taemin knew so well. “Nonsense, Taeminnie’s friends are always welcome.” 

The two of them still had to check for bus tickets, but it had to wait, Taemin’s mother ushering them to finish breakfast as she wanted to leave early for good seats, as if it made a difference whether she prayed from the first row or the last one. 

It had cooled down overnight, Taemin burying his nose in the collar of his jacket as he walked next to Jonghyun out on the street, the two of them following his parents like a pair of ducklings. The pair of simple leather shoes Taemin had offered hadn’t fit Jonghyun, so he wore his heavy boots to church underneath the pair of black, flat-ironed pants, a grin scurrying over Taemin’s lips at the sight. Both of them were silent, listening to Taemin’s mother, who deemed it necessary to feed Jonghyun information about the pastor, about the church they went to, about the upcoming service, about everything Jonghyun wasn’t interested in. But he smiled anyway, nodded along, and asked further questions, to the delight of Taemin’s mother.

He was _charming_ ; that was the most fitting word. Taemin had never witnessed the other interacting with _any_ woman in all the months they had been living together, and the way he acted around Taemin’s mother was so different from anything Taemin had ever seen the other doing. _Was it because she was a woman or because she was his mother?_

Greeting everyone they encountered in front of the church, his mother put on her white lace mantilla before they entered, Taemin and his parents dipping their fingers in a bowl of holy water and making the sign of the cross while Jonghyun looked around with his hands folded in front of his groin. It was quiet as they wandered over the ornamental floor made of marble, the sound of shoes echoing from the high walls as they looked for a place in one of the benches standing on the left and right sides of the aisle.

Taemin felt weirdly exposed as he genuflected and crossed himself again when Jonghyun stood behind him and waited. His religion wasn’t something he had showcased openly in front of the others in the dorm but something he had lived out within himself, and having Jonghyun right beside him had his two worlds clashing: Taemin from the countryside vs. Taemin who lived in Seoul. 

Kneeling in front of the bench in silent prayer, Taemin thought about everything but God or how thankful he was for what he had. Instead, his thoughts revolved around Jonghyun: about what would happen to them if they traveled back, about Jonghyun’s feelings for him and how genuine they were, about how nice it would be to sit down in Jonghyun’s lap right now and make out with him while everyone else was watching. When he caught himself thinking about ways to make Jonghyun moan in the middle of the service, his ears heated up and he straightened up to sit on the bench, his thigh touching the other’s as guilt consumed him. 

Matthew 6:13 – ‘ _And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one_.’ Clawing his fingertips into the fabric of his pants, Taemin looked straight ahead when Jonghyun leaned closer to whisper into his ear, “Did you attend church every week when you still lived at home?” 

He gave a hesitant nod, his eyes focusing on an elderly woman in a pretty purple hanbok, sitting down on the other side of the aisle. 

“Remarkable.” 

“There isn’t much to do in the countryside,” he replied in a low voice, the hairs on his neck standing up when Jonghyun stifled a chuckle behind his fist. How was it possible for the other to have such a big effect on him after everything that had happened? Just days ago Taemin had called him an asshole and now he wanted to stick his tongue in Jonghyun’s mouth and grind up against him like a horny teenager. 

It was impossible to concentrate on anything remotely to do with church, religion, or Taemin’s faith as the service began and the organ started playing high up on the balustrade at their backs, every minute an endless battle between push and pull, the devil tainting Taemin’s thoughts. Halfway through, he couldn’t remember anything the pastor had said, only felt the heat radiating from Jonghyun’s leg, his hand wanting to slip into the small gap between the other’s thighs to stroke his dick through the thin pants. Taemin had no idea where this sudden arousal was coming from, but he suffered. He wanted to grab Jonghyun’s hand and run outside to press him against the nearest brick wall, his lips barely able to form words as they sang in unison with the other members of the church, his fingertips leaving prints on the small hymnbook in his hands as he sweated, Jonghyun’s voice lulling him as the other sang along, sharing Taemin’s hymnbook. 

Matthew 26:41 – _‘Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak,’_ he repeated continuously in his head, begging for the church service to end as the pastor read his sermon. Was it Jonghyun wearing a suit or the thrill of knowing that a church was the worst place to let one’s thoughts wander? Taemin had trouble deciding, his knee bobbing impatiently, waiting for time to move more quickly. 

Relieved when it was time to receive the Holy Communion, Taemin jumped up from the bench. He couldn’t get to the front quickly enough while Jonghyun stayed seated, the warmth of his presence leaving the spots where their bodies had touched. Fearing to be judged by God, Taemin held his head low when the pastor said, “The body of Christ,” as he stood in front of him with his palms facing upwards and answered with a low “Amen” after receiving the bread. 

Had temptation appeared in front of him in the form of Jonghyun? Was he the devil in disguise, leading Taemin away from the light? The most obscure thoughts rattled through his brain as he walked to his seat, his flat-mate having stepped out of the bench to let Taemin and his parents get back in without trouble. Taemin didn’t dare to look at him, avoided eye contact and stayed stoic and motionless, trying to endure these last minutes, drowning in the colorful leaded windows depicting the Blessed Virgin Mary with baby Jesus sitting in her lap. 

The last _Amen_ felt as relieving as the ringing of the school bell after a long day, and Taemin walked outside after the closing benediction to take a long breath, clearing the entrance of the church and seeking shelter in front of a magnolia tree. Some flowers were already blooming, their soft white petals making the tree look like it was covered in snow. 

“Are you okay?”

Taemin turned his head in surprise, startled when he realized how close Jonghyun was. His parents were talking to acquaintances nearby, sharing pleasantries and talking about the weather; simple chit-chat on a Sunday. 

“Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?” Taemin reacted defensively, scratching the back of his neck, the flowery sweetness of the magnolia blossoms soaring up his nose and the leaves of the trees rustling in the wind.

Jonghyun cocked his head and eyed him for a moment, his inquisitiveness making Taemin nervous. “I don’t know. You seemed fidgety throughout the service. At one point I thought you might be digging a hole into the ground, so hard did you bob your leg.”

“It was nothing, really.” Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Taemin tried to deflect this attention. There was no need for Jonghyun to know that he had spent the past hour fantasizing about all the ways one could possibly have sex in a church. “When do you want to leave for Seoul?” It seemed the safest choice of topic to avoid further questions.

“I don’t know. Depends on when buses are leaving from here.”

Sex and cigarettes were the only two things on Taemin’s mind as he nodded and pulled out his phone to check for connections. _Sex and cigarettes, sex and cigarettes, Jonghyun, sex, and cigarettes, having sex with Jonghyun and a cigarette after that…_

“That’s weird.” Taemin frowned, scrolling through the page once he had put Seoul as his destination and checked for departure times.

“What is?”

“It only shows me lines to Daejeon for today.” There was an exclamation mark behind every connection, and when Taemin clicked on one of them a new window popped up. “It says, ‘new timetable effective from February 1. 2017. No bus transport to Seoul on Sundays’. Taemin sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead. 

“That’s the countryside life, I guess,” Jonghyun quipped, a grin on his lips when Taemin looked over at him. His grin was cute, almost boyish-looking, letting Taemin see behind the façade of the proper bank clerk.

“So: change of plans?” Taemin asked as he looked for alternatives. “There would have been the possibility to drive to Daejeon and catch a train to Seoul from there, but for that, we would have needed to be on a bus right now.” 

“We can still drive to Daejeon, though.”

Tilting his head, Taemin regarded Jonghyun from the corner of his eye. “And then?”

“Spend some time there and continue our journey tomorrow. I’ve never been to Daejeon. We could stop by at Sung Sim Dang,” Jonghyun recommended, Taemin’s ears warming up as he realized what this suggestion entailed. 

“You want to spend the night there?”

An innocent shrug. “Why not?”

 _Yes, why not?_ Jonghyun and Taemin sharing a hotel bed in an unknown city. _Why not?_

“Only if you want to,” the other added hastily when Taemin hesitated.

“Of course, I always wanted to get stuffed on pastry.” A harmless reply without any indecency. Was that what Jonghyun was thinking of as well? Pastry, and not naked bodies draped over hotel beds? Weeks of suppressed needs lurched up in Taemin’s chest and he despised himself for it. He didn’t want to think about Jonghyun that way when there were still so many unanswered questions acting like the elephant in the room. 

“And how did you like the service, Jonghyun?” Taemin’s mother had shown up from behind, resting a hand on Jonghyun’s back.

“It was very nice. Peaceful.”

Was it a lie or the truth? Taemin couldn’t tell as Jonghyun smiled at his mother, whose face lit up in glee.

“I’m glad.” 

As they set out to walk back home, Taemin didn’t tell her that they wouldn’t be leaving for Seoul right away, keeping his parents in the dark about their stop in Daejeon to prevent his mother from convincing them to stay for another night. Maybe talking about everything outside of Taemin’s home would make things easier, take away the pressure; two war parties meeting on neutral ground for peace talks. 

Adam and Eve jumped up Taemin’s legs as soon as they entered the house, yelping and whimpering as he took off his shoes and only quieting down when he picked them up.

“Apparently, they’ve forgotten all about yesterday’s assassination attempt on them.” Jonghyun cradled Eve’s head as the toy poodle looked over Taemin’s shoulder, paws resting on his jacket. 

“They have goldfish brains.” 

Taemin took the dogs upstairs, Jonghyun opening the door for him and taking off the suit jacket as soon as the door fell shut behind them.

“I’m not made for wearing suits,” he sighed.

“But they suit you,” Taemin replied nonchalantly as he set the dogs down and went over to his desk to grab his cigarettes. 

“Thought about trying nicotine patches?” 

Chuckling at the question, Taemin opened the window and lit a cigarette. “What for?”

“To help you stop? The sooner you quit, the better.”

Taemin turned around and leaned against the windowsill with crossed arms while Jonghyun crouched on the floor, rubbing Adam’s belly. The little Maltese had thrown himself on his back and wiggled from left to right on the carpet, enjoying the attention.

“What if I don’t want to stop?”

Jonghyun looked up at him, his right eyebrow arched. “It’s unhealthy, it’s expensive, it stinks – what is there to like about it?” 

A shrug. “It’s relaxing.” 

He took another drag while Jonghyun huffed and shook his head. “I smoked too when I was in the military,” Jonghyun said. 

“Huh?” Taemin blinked in surprise.

A tiny grin edged at Jonghyun’s lips. “Shocking, right?” Their eyes met again. “I think it was peer pressure that got to me. But some days were so dreadful, it was the only thing to look forward to.”

“Why did you stop?”

The grin on Jonghyun’s lips widened. “My mom found a pack of cigarettes in my backpack when I was home for a visit. She scolded me so bad that I didn’t dare to touch them again after that.”

Taemin couldn’t help but chuckle. “A mama’s boy.”

“I’ve never seen that as an insult,” Jonghyun replied.

“It wasn’t meant to be one.”

Breathing in the smoke one last time, Taemin pressed the cigarette out and threw it out the window.

“I’ve never asked you what branch you were in.” Probably because Jonghyun had only ever mentioned his military service in passing. Taemin walked to his wardrobe, hung up his suit jacket on a hanger, then proceeded to unbutton his shirt.

“Active duty soldier in the Army.”

“Do you have photos from that time?” Stripping out of his shirt, Taemin tossed it to the floor.

“Probably, but that buzz cut didn’t suit me at all.”

Jonghyun looked over at him, Taemin feeling the other’s eyes on his body before they settled on his face. Taemin switched from the suit into a sweatshirt and jeans, Jonghyun averting his gaze when he took off his pants. He’d hoped it would encourage Jonghyun to do the same, but when the other got up from the floor to get changed, he did so in Taemin’s father’s study, not giving Taemin the satisfaction of even a glimpse of that skin he missed seeing so much. 

While Jonghyun was gone, Taemin packed his backpack and an extra sports bag with clothes he wanted to take back with him, Adam and Eve, having hopped on the bed, watching him curiously from their position on the mattress. Jonghyun returned by the time Taemin had finished tossing clothes into the bag, an indefinable pile of differently colored items staring up at him as he tried to zip it closed. 

Jonghyun had put on the clothes he had arrived in, distressed black jeans and an oversized black sweater, an interesting contrast to the glasses sitting on his nose and his neatly styled hair. 

“I already booked us a room near the station,” Jonghyun said and leaned his backpack against Taemin’s desk before walking over to the bed and sitting down next to the dogs.

“How much money do I owe you?

“None,” came the prompt reply. “It’s nothing fancy, but the reviews were okay for what it is.” 

“I’ll book the bus tickets, then.” 

A soft laugh. “You don’t have to.” Jonghyun lifted Eve from the mattress and placed him in his lap, giving the tiny toy poodle a head massage, fingers diving through his fur. 

“I want to, though.” Taemin’s eyes fell on his PS4 and he wavered for a moment before saying, “Should I take the PlayStation with me? We could play the game you got me at the dorm.” 

“Will you be able to study at all if you take it with you?”

“Hey,” Taemin pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you love playing video games.” Jonghyun sank back as he held Eve securely in his hands. It was an endearing sight: Jonghyun lying on his back with the toy poodle resting on his chest, Adam seizing the opportunity to scuttle up to Jonghyun’s head and sniff his hair and face. Taemin would have loved to come up to the bed and rest on Jonghyun’s chest as well, sniffing his hair and his face, but he didn’t, instead standing awkwardly in his room until he decided to unplug his PS4 and pack it into his backpack along with his favorite video games. 

As long as he hadn’t collected all the answers, he didn’t want to rush. To break the vicious cycle they needed to talk, get into the nitty-gritty; needed to get rid of all crudities, needed to complete all the side quests before they could tackle the main one. 

Taemin had waited so long; a few more hours seemed manageable in comparison. 


End file.
